


24 Days of Cardinal - an Advent Calendar

by aeryn_sun



Category: Cardinal (TV 2017)
Genre: At least I'm going to try and keep this an angst-free zone, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, F/M, but you know me, no promises, not angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:14:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 27,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27804397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeryn_sun/pseuds/aeryn_sun
Summary: So ... I was telling our favorite lisedelorme how I'd been getting my godsons, nieces and nephews advent calendars and I was busy "delivering" them this weekend. And she was like "I want one." and it was a bit too late to ask for her address and send something. But guess what you can do last minute? Fic advent calendars! Maybe throw in a vid or something. And yeesh. We have so many freaking ideas flying around ... this seemed like an excellent way to start ticking off stuff on that list :-D And I was planning on watching all of Cardinal as my personal advent calendar starting today. And figured - or I could just write some missing scenes and drabbles to go along with that. And then started watching S1 Ep 1 and it gave me all the feels and I was soooooo emotional.Honestly don't know if I'll be able to really do one a day, because crazy busy and still trying to finish True North, but it's the thought that counts, right? So ... this may end up being 24 parts, just might take a bit longer. And the angst fest is going to hit an all time high next, so a little light fluff and smut was in order anyway.If anyone feels like pitching in, let me know and I'll add you!
Relationships: John Cardinal & Lise Delorme, John Cardinal/Lise Delorme
Comments: 37
Kudos: 21





	1. Day 1 - Snowball Effects

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lisedelorme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisedelorme/gifts).



> Lol, I'm trying to go for some smaller, like 500 word drabbles. But no promises some of this will get out of hand %-)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fluffy snowball fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooo .... the first one was actually going to be something completely different, but we had a fresh fall of snow overnight. So this happened instead.

It was the first snow of the winter and everyone was in a good mood with the blanket of white that had fallen over Algonquin Bay. Everyone but McLeod, who was complaining about the slush on the streets and how unbearable and dangerous the roads were and that it would all turn to brown mush by noon.

Lise walked in, hair covered in the white glimmering stuff, cheeks rosy and eyes bright. And somehow, the arrival of winter had put much of a dampener on major crime and it had been a slow week and they were busy catching up on paperwork. The only new case that had come in had been a few pieces of art that had gone missing and Lise and John were assigned to follow up.

The art theft was quickly cleared up – it had been called in by an older gentleman with exquisite taste in anything from Dutch Renaissance to Spanish Romanticism paintings. As it turned out, it wasn’t paintings that had gone missing. Just a somewhat more pricey prints. Specifically a print of Goya’s Saturn Devouring his Son and one of Hyeronimus Bosch’s Christ in Limbo. And they had not gone missing per se - the man’s much much younger wife quickly admitted to the _crime_ after a short interrogation. She’d chucked them in the fireplace after a hefty disagreement. Her exquisite tastes ran more a long the lines of _modern_ art. 

John and Lise watched the ensuing fight with a certain level of amusement while feigning professional detachment. But John had known Lise long enough to call the tight lines of her lips as what it was: she was trying hard to keep from bursting out lout laughing. And Lise, much the same, saw the mirth dancing in her partner’s eyes and they were trying hard to avoid eye contact to stop themselves making each other laugh.

“THEY WERE UGLY.”

“THIS IS INTERNATIONALLY ACCLAIMED ART!”  
  
“WHO HANGS THAT ON THEIR WALL?! I MEAN REALLY!”

“Sir.” John interrupted. “Do you wish to press charges?”

“NO HE DOES NOT.”

“Ma’am. Calm down.”  
  
“I WANT A DIVORCE!”

“FINE!”

“Sir. Does that mean you want to press charges?”  
  
“NO! I WANT A DIVORCE!”

“Well, Sir. You don’t need the police for that.”

“ARREST HER.”

“Well, Sir… she did not actually steal the art. Seeing as she co-owns it.”

“YOU’RE ABSOLUTELY USELESS. LEAVE!”

“So you do not want to press charges.”  
  
“LEAVE.”

And John and Lise beat a hasty retreat as the shouting match continued.

“Do you think we need to stick around if this turns domestic?”

“Uh … I … doubt it … “ Lise replied, pointing at the large glass window pane. The shouting had stopped and they were now clearly making out heavily.

John smirked, averting his eyes and walking back to their car. Lise was following behind slowly, still trying to keep from cracking up. She hadn’t been paying attention when a soft thud hit her leg and she looked down in surprise at the white mark the soft snowball had left there.

“Well, you gonna hurry up or what?” John mocked.

“Oh, you want a fight?” Lise ducked with record speed, forming a sloppy ball and tossing it in his direction.

“I think your aim is a little off there, _Detective Delorme_. Didn’t you use to play soccer?”

He lazily gathered snow from the top of the car and lopping another big and soft one at her, hitting her smack in the head.

“Oh you got yourself a fight, _Detective Cardinal_.” And she gathered snow into several small balls in rapid succession, throwing them at him and this time hitting him. One ball hitting his shoulder and he yelped as the cold hit his skin as some of the snow ended up in his collar. He lazily defended himself with another ball, but Lise had been stealthily getting closer, covering herself behind the car.

And just when he came round the corner to toss another one her way, she tackled him with the fierceness of her much smaller, but taut body, rubbing the snow into his bearded, chuckling face. She had the upper hand for less than a minute where he indulged her laughing, carefree delight. But it was also cold and she _was_ stuffing snow down his collar. So he grabbed her in a bear hug, holding her tight on rolled them over.

And with John having immobilized her quite effectively, she stilled … and they both became very aware of the fact that John’s weight was pushing into her warm, tingling, adrenaline charged body. And neither moved, both smiling, eyes shining and bright, puffs of air between them in a long, lingering moment before John dipped down and kissed her. And she responded _thoroughly_.

A car horn in the distance startled them out of their kiss, John taking his weight off of her and getting on his knees and then up, pulling her with him, smiling sheepishly. And just as quickly as it had started, the snowball fight was over and they got back into their car.

“Wanna get some hot cocoa and some donuts before we head back?” John asked, putting the keys into the ignition.

“Yeah.” She replied, a wide smile on her lips.


	2. Day 2  - Accidentally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You all tucked in warm and ready or the next fluffy chapter?

They’d been to Sudbury, meeting with Jerry and other members of the OPP, consulting on a case. They’d headed off early enough to beat traffic, but as they were en route, it started snowing in large, heavy flakes coming down hard and fast. John had slowed down, driving carefully with the limited vision he had, the windshield wipers barely clearing the windows before more heavy flakes settled on the window. They were in the middle of nowhere when they saw the oncoming headlights of another car. Who apparently had not seen them coming and was driving half in their lane and at a speed that was definitely not appropriate for the conditions.

Lise screamed at him to get out of the way and John swerved to avoid a crash, the other car just hitting the side of their car with the sound of screeching metal. John was struggling to control their vehicle and came to a sudden stop on a snowy embankment. It took him a moment to get his bearings, immediately checking for his partner, reaching out for her hand, finding it cold, but a soft and steady pulse beneath his fingertips.

“You OK?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Damn idiot.”

Lise let out a string of French curses. John got out of the car to inspect the damage to the car and she got out behind him and they stood side by side inspecting the damage to the left side of their vehicle and the left flood light shattered.

“I think we need to call a tow truck. We shouldn’t drive like this.”

“ _Tabarnak!_ ”

John made the call. But he couldn’t help but notice the red blush that was covering her cheeks. He liked it a little bit too much when her passionate French temperament rose to the surface. Sometimes (not then, never when she was there) he wondered what she would look like when she was … he stopped his errant train of thought, getting back into the car and closing the door just a little too forcefully.

“They may be a while. Lots of drivers surprised by the weather. Could be hours before they make it all the way out here.”

She was grumbling something into the collar of her coat. And he knew the telltale signs of when she started to get hungry, cold and cranky. He tried to start the car to at least get some heat going. When he turned the keys in the ignition, the motor made a sputtering sound and died. John tried again.

“Sorry.”

She stayed silent and he could sense the tension coming off the passenger seat and her grumpy expression told him everything he needed to know. She was cold, hungry and cranky.

“I hope this didn’t ruin your evening plans.” He said apologetically, trying to distract her and lighten the mood.

“I had a date with a wine bottle and a hot bath … so you could say being stuck here in the cold without wine kind of does ruin my evening.”

John’s ears twitched at the word date, but relaxed when she mentioned the hot bath. Well. Maybe not _relax_ exactly. The thought of his partner, naked underneath white suds, cheeks flushed … was _not helpful_. “Well, I can’t provide you with a tub or red wine … but I’ve got a bottle of Scotch in the back.”

She perked up at that. “If you have chocolate back there, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Peanut M&Ms?” He pulled a bag from his coat with a lopsided smirk.

“Damn, John. You know the way to a girl’s heart.” An infectious grin spreading out over her face.

He chuckled. “Best I can do, sorry.” And got out to grab the bottle from the back.

“Here.” He handed over the bottle, finding her already munching on the M&Ms.

“Damn John. A _Port Askaig_? Did _you_ have plans?” Between his trek to the back of the car and his return, her mood had apparently brightened significantly and she was teasing him, an eyebrow raised and a twinkle in her eye.

“You know your Scotch. Just the usual … fireplace, book and a nice Scotch.” He replied, a little embarrassed. It made him feel a little old.

“Nice. Maybe we should do a movie night again sometime if that’s what you keep around.”

And her heartfelt response made his heart soar. Maybe he didn’t have any reason for embarrassment.

“That’d be nice.” He replied, earnestly, a soft smile hiding underneath his beard.

They fell silent, passing the bottle between them. John’s fingers brushing against hers, feeling the cold seep over into his. She shivered, ever so slightly. Someone less attentive would have missed it, but he knew _his_ partner. She might no longer be hungry and cranky, but she was still _cold_.

“You warm enough? They could be another couple of hours.” He said gruffly.

“Mmm. Didn’t think I’d be out in the cold much or I would have worn something warmer. Didn’t even bring gloves.”

His hand reached out, pulling her clammy fingers into his warm hands.

“You’re freezing Lise.” And he started rubbing her hands between his. And it was more than just his warm hands that made her warm up quickly.

“You’re nice and toasty.” She smiled at him, shyly.

“You wanna … uhm … “ He shrugged and pointed his head to the back of the car.

“Huh?” She was genuinely confused, distracted by the feeling of his hands on hers, to pay attention to what he was saying.

“Well … I could … warm you up.” She looked up into his eyes, surprised. But not … unpleasantly so. Maybe a slight panic flashing across her features.

“We could … uhm … get in the backseat.” She looked at him dubiously, her warm amber eyes raised in a silent question.

“I AM really cold.” She finally said, scrunching her nose and she felt the cold seeping in from all corners of her body. Her feet had started feeling cold through her heels, her hands had barely warmed under his touch and she started feeling the cold on her legs, arms and face.

“Come on.” John shuffled out of his seat, got out of the car and got in the backseat. She hesitated, briefly, but followed suit, getting in beside him, with a good foot between them.

John was shuffling, opening his coat and adjusting in the far too small backseat. “C’mere.” He said gruffly, pulling her into his side and wrapping the side of his coat around her. “Just like movie night.”

He moved to gently rub his warm hands against her, but felt her stiffen at the contact, so opted for one arm tight around her back and his other softly around her front, trying to not make her feel crowded.

“We could watch something … “

He felt her long exhale against him and felt her voice reverberate. “Mmm.”

He pulled out his phone. “Kelly sent me this funny video… here…” And he showed her a video of a moose swimming in a pool. After a good little while, he felt her relax and her lips tugging into a smile at the ridiculous puppy videos he found. Eventually, she snuck her cold, clammy hands inside his coat, first one, trying to warm her hand against his warm torso, afraid he’d pull back at the cold frigid hand against him. When he only tightened his hold around her, pressing her cold hands between his arms and his body, she snuck in the second one, just hovering over his warm, soft belly and he draped his coat tighter around her.

And somewhere, between the cold outside and his warm body, the Scotch and the soft rumble whenever he chuckled at the puppy antics, she drifted off. And Cardinal pulled her in a little closer and thought that this was at least as good as a book and the fireplace. The only thing better would be this _and_ a book and the fireplace and he felt a warmth spread out from deep within his belly as he pulled her in a little closer, closing his eyelids as he inhaled the faint scent of her shampoo as his head rested against her soft hair.

And that’s how they found them, three hours later. Fast asleep on the backseat, wrapped up in each other. Snowed in.


	3. Day 3 - Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone was complaining about the lack of kissing :-p And what's Christmas fluff without a mistletoe?

John had happily volunteered to go canvassing door to door to see if anyone had noticed anything when the house at the end of the cul de sac was broken into while the elderly owners had enjoyed a leisurely cruise down South. And the reason was plain and simple: he was more than happy to avoid the breakroom after he’d unsuspectingly grabbed a coffee in the morning and Dyson had been asking him for the long overdue paperwork, standing behind him, waiting for him to clear the spot in front of the coffee machine.

Jerry had walked in at that exact moment and had smirked at them, raising an eyebrow to the ceiling. Someone – probably McLeod, the irksome elf who had nothing better to do, had at some point put up a sprig of mistletoe. Right above the coffee machine.

“Uh oh. Better kiss up to the boss, John.” Jerry mocked.

Lise had just returned from sneaking outside for a smoke and watched the scene that was unfolding with great amusement.

McLeod, who had his face stuffed with a Donut, had unnecessarily added “Yeah John. _Man_ up!”

Dyson, being the bigger woman, stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek while everyone was cackling and jeering.

“There, folks. Merry Christmas. Now get back to work!” Dyson commanded and got herself her coffee. And John fled at the first opportunity.

Meanwhile, the Christmas shenanigans continued. Kular (perhaps on purpose), had been loitering around the coffee machine and gleefully planted one on Lise’s cheek when he got the chance. She was sure to exact her revenge and pointed out when Kular and McLeod were standing under the mistletoe. “Fair is fair.” She didn’t mind that much when Jerry joined her under the sprig. “Merry Christmas, Jerry.” “Merry Christmas, Lise.”

McLeod was putting on his coat and getting ready to leave at exactly 16:47 and that was also exactly the moment when John came back from canvassing, sitting down heavily in his chair, before getting started on the paperwork. Lise was buried in hers. Jerry had left long ago and Dyson was stuck in an interdepartmental meeting somewhere.

Lise got up to make herself a cup of tea and while she was waiting for the water to boil, John walked up behind her and started making a cup of coffee.

“Kular gone home?”

“I guess. Haven’t seen him.”

John took a careful look around before wrapping his hands around her hips and bending down and pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. But Lise had something else in mind and pulled him down, hand roaming through his neatly cut hair and deepened the kiss, probing at his lips with her tongue until he opened up and her tongue was teasing his, making him groan when she pressed her whole body into his, clawing at his ass trying to bring him closer. When they heard the creak of a door, they separated, lips and cheeks flushed, their hands still lingering, holding each other’s fingers.

“I missed you today.” Lise smiled sheepishly.

“You think they suspect anything?”

“Non. They don’t have a clue.”

“Maybe we should tell them?”

“Yeah. After Christmas?”

“Yeah. You about ready to go home?”

“Just want to finish this up.”

“You want me to wait or go ahead and make dinner?”

“I like it when you cook.”

“Mmm, so you do like my cooking.” He smirked, leaning in for another kiss. “Don’t be long.”

And with the smoldering look he gave her, he knew she wouldn’t be.


	4. Day 4 – The Tinder One (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of foreplay for the weekend? I feel like the fluff to smut ratio isn't optimal... clearly gotta get to work on that :-D Clearly, this needs to have a part 2 :-p  
> (Hitting it out of the park with the angst to fluff ratio though).

It was a slow day, nothing more than a few nicked skis and a few missing snowmobiles in early December in Algonquin Bay. John had been finishing some old paperwork and was reviewing some cold case files when he overheard the word “date” and his ears had twitched and perked up with sudden … well, it was something akin to someone having lit a flamethrower in his heart, with his heart suddenly beating rapidly with fast and erratic thuds and the sound of his blood rushing in his ears. And as he was tiptoeing to the break room, feigning need for a coffee with a half full mug … eavesdropping on the conversation between Delorme and Kular.

She was apparently in the middle of recounting a particularly horrible date the previous night and his heart calmed at that, but the ears had not stopped being perked and paying attention. Why hadn’t he know that she was … dating again? They’d spent hours and hours in the car together over the last months and over dinners and movies and never once had she mentioned anything. There had been a few times lately when she’d turned him down for a dinner or a movie, but she’d always had some kind of valid excuse. Not that a date wouldn't be a valid excuse.

It had been almost a year since she’d turned down the job in Toronto and while there had been a strange kind of energy between them when she first told him that she’d been offered the job, it had all but dissipated when she’d announced shortly thereafter that she wasn’t going to take it after all. They had solved the case of Scott Riley and never spoken about the reasons why she hadn’t left, not even on that long drive to Toronto and back or when they’d lingered in front of their hotel rooms that night, but left it at bidding each other good night. And they’d continued their soft and gentle dance of spending movie nights and dinners together, but never talking about … well, anything important, as it turned out. Like the fact that she had apparently been _dating_!

“Seriously, Lise? The fact that he’s a captain at sea didn’t raise a red flag?” Kular mocked.

“What? It’s not impossible!”

“Really, Delorme. You deal with thugs on a daily basis. You should have known better. Where did you meet this guy anyway?”

“Tinder?” she shrugged, dubiously. John’s ears twitched at that. The thought of _Delorme_ dating _online_ on _Tinder_ of all places made an ugly green monster rear its head.

“Well, you get what you deserve on there. I mean, you don’t need to pick up guys on a dating app. There’s plenty of guys around here lining up to go out with you. Kevin down in Financial has a crush on you.”

“Ash! You can’t be serious!”

Well, John agreed with that. Kevin in Financial was clearly much too green and mousey and bland for her. She needed someone _mature_ , someone who got her. Someone who loved that firey spunk in her.

By now, John had been lurking just outside the break room door so long people were starting to stare. And he heard movement from within, so he entered … pretending to want to rinse out his mug. And Lise blushed and their conversation came to a sudden halt. And they went about their day, quickly forgetting about the conversation. And it had saved Lise the embarrassment of admitting that she had swiped left on Kevin in Financial. And pretty much _everyone_ at work.

And she did not need Kular giving her dating advice, what did the know anyway? Besides. It wasn’t like she was serious about it. It was just … fun. As much as she loved those movie nights with John … they left her … frustrated. And a grown woman had needs. And maybe if she'd just found the right kind of ... tall, bearded, gruff, dark haired mysterious guy ... She hadn't, was the short version.

That night, John was talking to Kelly on Skype and asked her about online dating. And at her shocked “Dad!” when he asked how Tinder _worked_. So he got to work on his own, set up a profile. _John, 59. Detective. Too old to be on here._ Just to see how many scammers were on there. He had to make sure she was being safe. And he started swiping left. It wasn’t like he was here to meet _someone_. He kept swiping for a while, but did not find what he was looking for. He wasn't cut out for this. He needed to get a sense for a person. Who they were on the inside. Not that he didn't appreciate the outside. Jesus, did he appreciate the outside. It just went so much deeper. And maybe, just maybe, he was a little afraid of just how deep.

He kept working through the files (which is what he called them in his head) the next evening. And there it was. Lise, 37. Jesus. He did not need to be reminded of how much younger she was than him. Seeing it, black and white, gave him an odd kind of rumbly feeling in his stomach. She hadn't put down what she did for a living. Probably didn't want to scare anyone off. She'd put some lovely quote in French and English and he heard her voice say the words, in the thick French accent he loved. But nothing quite compared to the reaction that her pictures caused. It didn’t even _look_ like her.

Those deep hazel eyes and that smile she displayed so infrequently at work was more than enough to send a shock wave through his system on any given day. But she was clearly trying to look attractive and bloody well succeeded and he felt an odd sense of possessiveness. And god, he would never tire of her smile. She was always so serious at work and spending time outside of work had been so pleasant and she'd excelled at making him smile, usually starting with an infectious laugh of her own, making his grumpy old soul melt. After Catherine, things had been so hard and slow to get back to a feeling of normal, but being in her presence had always felt like standing in the sun, being warmed from the inside out, on the first days of spring, hungry for the sun's rays and he felt almost jealous at that smile being directed at anyone but him.

And that long wavy hair framing her sweet complexion, her rosy cheeks … and was that lipstick? She seemed to have a liking for outdoorsy pictures. He'd seen that hair only a handful of times like _that_. And it was a good thing she didn't wear lipstick work more often. _Sexy_. And he had _never_ seen hear wear a dress. Maybe he had never properly _seen_ her as a woman. She'd been _Delorme. His partner._ He'd noticed, of course, that men would react to her. Suspects, witnesses. There was something about her. She was beautiful. And he instantly felt like an old pervert, looking at her pictures like that. He took a cold shower and went to bed. But the torturous images persisted. Especially her smile, like was meant just for him. 

The next day, they were on a stakeout and Lise was eerily quiet. Like freakishly quiet. And skittish. Delorme was not _skittish_. When he asked “Wanna come over for Pizza and an Action Movie later?” she nearly chocked on her coffee, a telltale “deer caught in the headlight” look.

“What?”

“Yeah, you know. Movie. We can get something else if you want. We did Pizza last week.”

She gulped. “Pizza’s fine.”

"You can pick the movie. You watched Die Hard with me last time.

And John kept babbling on, about what she wanted on hers and what she wanted to watchand did not give her weird reactions a second thought. Until … when she’d gone to use the bathroom and to pick up a couple of coffees, he checked his phone for the first time that day. And there it was. _Match._


	5. Day 5 - The Tinder One (Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it getting hot in here? Happy steamy weekend ...

John was frozen in place. He had never actually thought this part through. He had not actually been thinking much at all other than that she had been on a _date_. With someone. A man. Who was not Kevin in Financial with the innocent crush that she did not even seem notice, but was obvious to anyone but her. And he most definitely had not been thinking when he’d swiped right.

Had definitely not been thinking about the consequences. Their friendship. Their partnership. He could barely even remember having done it. He’d been staring at her red lips and he was just going to put his phone away. And well. He could not have said what hat possessed him. But it had. And his mind had been empty, for a moment, and he’d felt nothing but the blood rush to his head as he was staring at the phone in his hand. And nothing had happened. And that seemed _impossible_.

And as he sat there, dumbfounded at the nothingness, he’d decided he needed a shower. A cold shower. To distract his ruminating thoughts. If she wasn’t interested, she’d never know, right? That’s how that was supposed to work? Damn. He should have read that again. He hadn’t just put … everything out there, right? The one thing he had not been thinking about, was what would happen if she did the same. And he felt that same rush of blood to his head, dizzying. The beat of his heart had quickened as his breath had become shallow. What now?

She’d just barely returned with their coffees and immediately sensed his change in demeanor. And it took her about two seconds to put together what had just occurred and her cheeks flushed red. So he had seen it, too.

She handed him his coffee, avoiding meeting his eyes. The rest of the stakeout ticked by in awkward silence. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. John was grappling with … well what she had been thinking. He had always found it easy to follow her train of thought, but right now, he was flying blind and he was wishing he could read her mind.

And of course, nothing at all happened on the stakeout. Nothing. They sat there for hours, without anything to distract them. John stole a few odd sideways glances at her, studying the lines of her face. And he knew without looking that she did the same. What if this had all been a terrible idea?

McLeod and Kular drove up to relieve them and even they could tell the energy between them was off. They drove back to the precinct, John pulling up in the parking spot right next to where she’d left her car. She sat for a long moment without making a move, but suddenly spoke.

“We still on for later?”

He probably should have seen it coming, but still felt blindsided. Her expression was unreadable. She hadn’t said a word all afternoon and he’d begun to think that perhaps she’d changed her mind and they would ignore it and wait for the awkwardness to go away. For some reason – and he really should have – he had not expected her to face things head on.

“Yeah.” His voice came out too high pitched, too hopeful as he couldn’t help a smile from breaking out over his features, a little hidden behind the scruff of his beard.

“Good. I’ll be over in a bit.”

And she breezed out of his car and he let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

_Fuck._

He rushed home to shower, placing the order for pizza with a towel wrapped around his hips. He gave himself a long, worried once-over in the mirror and decided his beard needed a trim. His heart was pounding in his chest. This was either going to end extremely well … or he had just put his foot in his mouth. He put on a dash of aftershave. It wasn’t like he hadn’t before. What was he supposed to wear? Was this … a _date_ … or a casual movie night like they’d had dozens before? Somehow, he had never thought about what to wear before. And she’d somehow gone from jeans and turtlenecks to casual and comfortable, looking like she’d just come from a yoga lesson over the last couple of months.

The doorbell startled him out of his reverie. He was still wearing nothing but a towel. Dress shirt? Too formal. Flannel shirt? Too lumberjack. But maybe she liked lumberjack. _No_. T-shirt? Too … normal. Henley? How was this so hard?

“I need a minute!” He yelled in the general direction of the door.

The soft, blue sweater Kelly had gotten him for his birthday. She’d said it brought out his eyes. And it was a _nice_ sweater. That had to be a good thing, right? He threw on the sweater and a pair of jeans and opened the door. Only to find the pizza guy had left the pre-paid pizzas and had already left. But she was in the process of pulling into his driveway, so he waited casually by the door and watched her walk the few steps up.

She looked _nice_. She’d worn her hair straight and pulled into a high ponytail. And that was definitely lipstick. Not quite the sinful red in the picture, but something slightly more subtle. And as she got closer, he could tell she smelled nice, too. Fresh and breezy.

“Hi.” He could tell she was nervous, chewing her lips slightly, between the gentle smile playing around them.

And he could not help the smile spreading over his and rumbled in a low, gravelly voice: “Hi.”

“I see the pizza got here before me.”

“Just got here, yeah.”

She held up a bottle. “Hope red is fine?”

And he nodded. Liquid courage. _Good thinking_. He opened the door wider, stepping back with the pizza boxes to let her through. He set down the boxes on the counter, turning to help her out of her coat. She was startled at his movement. She’d been over a dozen times and never once had he taken her coat. She’d always thrown it on the coat rack herself. But there he was, standing behind her to help her out of it. She felt the warmth of his hand hover at her neck and her long hair brushed over the skin of his knuckles as she turned her head in his direction. He held his breath for the fraction of a minute at the silky contact, then turning to gingerly take the coat off her shoulders and hanging it on a hanger. A _hanger._

John shuffled to the kitchen, putting the pizzas in the oven to reheat them quickly. He stole a glance at her … she seemed to have the casual, but _nice_ down to an art. She’d stuck with her comfortable black leggings, but had thrown an oversized beige knit sweater over them that ended just below her ass, the sleeves billowing elegantly. It had a large V-neck and it seemed like it would fall from her small shoulders at any moment, the V dipping dangerously low between the gentle swell of her breasts. If she was trying to turn his head, she was definitely succeeding.

He hadn’t had time to prepare anything. No candlelight dinner. It would be weird to eat on the couch, right? She stepped into the kitchen, setting down the wine on the counter and started rummaging through his drawer, looking for his bottle opener. She had to stretch to reach the top shelf to grab two wine glasses and John was watching her, mouth open, as her sweater rose up over her leggings and he got a good look at her fine, shapely legs underneath the stretched fabric.

Before she caught him staring, he turned his attention back to the pizzas, retrieving them from the oven. When he looked up, he’d found her pouring the _expensive_ , heavy Barolo into the glasses, setting them down on the couch table.

“What are we watching?” She asked casually, looking up at him from his living room, her amber eyes a shade darker and sultrier than he was used to and he felt himself react involuntarily, heat spreading through his body, making him flush.

“Whatever you want.”

She made a sound that sounded like agreement, but to Cardinal it sounded like a _purr_. She settled down on the couch, flicking on the TV with the remote and started going through the selection. And John felt the heat in his body turn to liquid lava watching her, inclined casually and comfortably on _his_ couch.

“James Bond OK?”

“Sure. Which one?”

“Skyfall?”

And he smirked, set down the boxes in front of them and took his seat next to her. He picked up his wine glass and raised it to clink with hers. Something they had _never_ done before.

“Cheers.” And she smiled at him, that mysterious, slow smile that sent a jolt of lightning to his groin whenever he was on the receiving end of it.

“Cheers.” And he took a big gulp from his glass, while she happily dug into the pizza, munching as the movie started. And his breath caught in his throat as her knee just barely brushed against his. They were sitting _closer_ than before.


	6. Day 6 - The Tinder One (Part III)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lise finally takes matters into her own hands so we can all enjoy a smutty Sunday :-p

Halfway through the movie and completely through the bottle, apparently both in need of something to quell their growing nerves, Lise got up to use the bathroom. John paused the movie and took the opportunity to clear the boxes from the couch table. He was still rummaging in the kitchen, when she returned, slightly tipsy and there was a dangerous fire in her eyes as she approached him, crowding him in the small space between the counters.

“So … John … “ the way she breathed his name and the way she licked her lips made his heart beat wildly in his chest. He _knew_ that determined look in a very different setting. It meant she was ready to pounce. “Are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?”

He gulped, staring at her helplessly. “Lise … “ and her name sounded completely dirty to his own ears, dripping like honey off his lips. His voice had dropped an octave, her name carrying a question – and a warning.

“Did you sign up because you were _jealous_ , John?” And he suddenly knew how the suspects she questioned with such skill felt. _Exposed_. Like she saw right through them. And he knew there was no point in lying.

“Yes.”

She stood mere centimeters from him, her gaze intense, _sensual_.

“Do you _want_ me, _John_?”

And the way her French accent clung suggestively to every lilt and every syllable and dragged out his name softly, sent a rush of blood to his cock, swelling uncomfortably in his jeans.

And John ... trusted that he knew her. Was able to read her. And he saw vulnerability flash across her eyes. And he let go. “Yes.” And his eyes bored into hers, breathing shallow, waiting for her next move.

And he felt her sense of relief when she read the response from his lips. No more need for bravado. She knew him too well. “Good.” And he saw her bite her lips again, in nervous anticipation – and they both moved simultaneously, moving in to each other’s space. She stood on her tiptoes, her hand reaching up to his neck, skin grazing skin, pulling him down to her – as his hands hovered over her face.

With one assuring, deep look into each other’s eyes, he dove in, crushing his lips to hers, grasping her face with his large hand and his other traveling down the length of her spine and pulling her against him when he reached the small of her back and her lithe body responded eagerly, pressing up against him.

They were both gasping for breath within minutes and John drew his lips from her shuttering ones, resting his forehead against hers.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time.” He panted, his warm breath against her face, his beard scratching softly against her cheek.

“Me too.” She smiled sheepishly, breathless.

“You’re beautiful.” He rasped, with every bit of awe he felt.

And he made her blush, the red spreading across her face and he tucked an errant wavy strand behind her ear.

“This isn’t just … this means more to me.” He said earnestly, quietly.

“Me too…” and her eyes found his, filled with happiness and warmth look down into hers. And the intensity of the gaze directed back at him fueled his fire once again. And he kissed her again, deeply, with the pent-up passion that had been simmering between them for the longest time.

“Je te désire tant.” She breathed, hands skating over the bulge in his jeans, over the buckle of his belt and her hands disappearing under his sweater, brushing over his abs, drawing the sweater upwards and pulling it impatiently over his head. His own hands had roamed low, over the gentle swell of her ass and leaning into her caresses eagerly, grasping at the low hem of her sweater, rushing it over her head, his hands returning to her torso immediately, only to lift hear easily on the countertop, stepping firmly between her legs and losing himself in another heated meeting of their lips, feeling her hands at the base of his neck, running along his hairline, spurred him on, making him groan against her swollen lips.

Lise’s own hands dropped to his belt, struggling to open it with the distracting large bulge below and she struggled to lower his zipper as he gasped her name into her hot mouth, his hips jerking involuntarily against her nimble hands. And _Jesus Fuck_ , she moved the jeans down over his hips and grasped his hard cock firmly through his boxers.

“You gotta stop.” He bit his lips painfully, shutting his eyes tightly trying not to come straight in his boxers. She was confused for only a fraction of a second until she caught his meaning, releasing her hold on him and running her hand gently through his beard instead, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "We've waited long enough, don't you think?"

"I just ... want to remember this."

"We've got all night to make memories, John."

And she was right, of course. She always was. They had waited more than enough and he loved watching the fire in her eyes. She was done waiting.

When he’d gotten a semblance of control back, he started tugging at her leggings and underwear and as she wiggled to the edge of the countertop, managed to remove them and felt her wet heat press itself into his straining erection.

He moved to slip his fingers between her folds, but she shook her head forcefully, a strained “Maintenant, John, _please_.” whimpering as she pulled him against her lips again, wrapping her legs around his ass, pulling him tighter against her wet center.

He held back, briefly, finding her eyes staring back at him in wonder and as he guided his hard length to her opening and slowly, steadily pressed into her. She arched desperately into him, her eyes never leaving his as she moaned his name and he felt her contract around him erratically before he’d even bottomed out.

He steadied himself, forcing himself to hold back for a moment, just another moment as she came hard and fast. She smiled up to him, the fondest and sweetest smile, before urging him on. And he withdrew slowly, only to thrust into her, slowly at first, filling her completely and losing himself quickly in shorter and faster and sloppier thrusts until he came in hard, shuddering jerks and almost like an afterthought, bringing his thumb between their bodies, rubbing against her sensitive clit and she came again, both panting heavily against each other.

When John had regained some sense of strength in his thighs, he wrapped her legs tightly against himself, picking her up by her buttocks, her wetness pooling against his stomach and unsteadily made his way to his bedroom, never letting her go even by a fraction. He set down his precious cargo gingerly at the foot of the bed, throwing the covers back and she moved back, taking him with her and he settled into her side, pants finally starting to subside.

He was smiling dumbly at her, mesmerized by her happy eyes staring back at him. His large hand found the side of her face again, framing it gently and tucking a sweaty, messed up strand behind her ear.

She smiled cheekily. "I'd say that was pretty memorable."

And he laughed and when he finally stopped laughing, he turned serious and soft. “I love you, Lise.”

And a warm gentle smile spread from her eyes to her mouth, murmuring contentedly “Je t’aime aussi, John.”


	7. Day 7 - Sick (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (OK. My numbering is now totally off. Which I'm going to totally ignore.)  
> So, apparently, I can't write 500 word drabbles anymore. Somehow, just the the introduction winds up being longer. And I seriously don't have time to write 5k+ fics every day. So I guess this will be another little miniature ficlet that will have more than one part. 
> 
> John comes down with the flu and Lise takes care of him.

John had slept poorly, feeling cold to his bones, had tossed and turned, muscles aching. He got into work, cranky and made himself a cup of _tea_. Lise watched him come in and already sensed something was wrong, but when he went and made himself a cup of _herbal tea,_ she knew with absolute certainty that something was off. _Very off_.

She grabbed her mug, stalking up behind him and when he hadn’t heard her sneak up behind him, she cleared her throat and carefully touched a warm hand to his shoulder, calling attention to herself.

“You OK there?”

“Didn’t sleep well.” He grumbled. “Sore throat.”

Lise took note of his glassy eyes and miserable appearance.

“You coming down with something?”

“No.” He protested. Followed by a coughing fit.

“Ooook then. Dyson needs us to go and check out a missing snowmobile. You sure you're up for this?” She asked skeptically.

"Fine.”

Lise took the keys from him and drove them out to where the snowmobile was reported missing. They got an overview of the situation, looked for evidence and tracks in the snow, interviewed the neighbors. Lise was focused on the tasks at hand and knowing John wasn’t his best, took on the main responsibility of talking and keeping things on track. Which took her attention away from _John_ or she would have noticed his condition was not improving. Quite the opposite.

By the time she’d wrapped up everything, she joined him in the car – where, uncharacteristically silent, he’d disappeared to while she was still tying up lose ends. She found him shivering in the passenger seat.

“Jesus, John. Why didn’t you say anything.” She touched a chilled hand to his forehead. “You’re burning up.”

“Mmm fine.” He mumbled. “I’m just _cold_.”

“You’re absolutely not fine. I’m going to call Dyson and will tell her I’m taking you home.”

Dyson told her to make sure John stayed home and keep an eye on him. _Direct order_. 

She had to actually physically push him through the door and he was shivering miserably the minute she took his coat off.

“Mmm cold.” John mumbled.

Lise was wracking her brain.

“Why don’t we get you in the shower for now?”

Lise maneuvered him to the bathroom and helped him undress.

“I can take my own pants off.” He sniffled tiredly.

“Right. I’ll uhm … leave you to it. Do you have a hot water bottle somewhere?”

He pointed to the medicine cabinet … and she grabbed the hot water bottle and bailed from the bathroom, with a lingering look back before closing the door on her way out, making sure he was actually fine. And he was _very_ fine indeed as she appreciatively took in her partner in nothing than a pair of boxers and socks.

Lise boiled some water in the kitchen, putting it in the hot water bottle and … feeling a little unsure of herself, entered John’s bedroom. The bed was unmade, looking like he had indeed spent the night tossing and turning. She briefly opened the window, shook out his duvet and pillow and his pajamas fell out from under them. She picked them up, putting them gingerly on the chair by the door and made up his bed, putting the hot water bottle under the covers to warm up his bed for him. As she was fussing with his PJs, he came in the bedroom wearing nothing but a towel.

“Sorry.” Lise flushed red and avoided looking at him, but John was too out of it to notice.

“Ssss okay. Nothing you haven’t seen before.” He slurred.

She was getting quite worried as he decidedly did not seem fine. And she had _definitely_ not seen her partner naked.

“Why don’t you … uhm, get in there and I’ll be back to check on you in a bit?”

She went back to the kitchen, still flushed and nervous and started rummaging around. There was some leftover hot water and she grabbed a mug and found some lemon juice and honey and made him some tea. She took the mug back to his bedroom and found him curled up under the covers, shivering and clutching the hot water bottle to his body.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, gingerly touched his forehead again, running a soft careful hand along the side of his face. “I got you some tea.”

“Thank you.” He mumbled tiredly.

“I think you’re coming down with the flu, John.”

He sighed miserably. “You should go. Don’t wanna get you sick.”

“Good thing one of us had their flu shot this year. Plus ... Dyson's orders.”

And he smiled – a little boy’s happy smile that _Nurse Lise_ was not about to leave him alone in his misery.

“Do you need some ibuprofen or something?”

“Mmmfine.”

He closed his eyes and after a minute, Lise moved to get up, but he reached out, holding her back. “Just you.” And Lise felt that all familiar tingling in her stomach and _stayed_ , a hand resting on his shoulder, until she was sure he’d drifted off, checked his temperature again and tucked him in a little tighter.

Lise then started pacing, not sure what to do with herself now. He was asleep and would likely be out of it for a couple of hours. She could go back to the office and finish up her report. She called Dyson again, telling her neither of them would be back and Dyson snickered something about “He’s your partner. You take care of _that_.”


	8. Day 8 - Sick (Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I'm extremely fried and this is actually terrible, but I posted. No complaining. Not sure if this will be it and I'll move on to something more *inspiring* or if there will be an awkward morning after.

Lise was still pacing like a caged tiger. She needed to occupy herself with something or she would go insane watching John sleep. Not that it was a bad view. _Not at all._ But John earlier in nothing but a towel, his hair wet from the shower and padding around with bare feet had not helped put her nerves at ease. Quite the opposite. There was something about him being so vulnerable and unguarded that made her heart melt and being around him, being in his space, like _this_ had a terrifying domestic feeling to it. 

And before she could let her thoughts stray any further, she opened his fridge again, surveying the contents. John, it seemed, lived off of cereal and wine. That was not going to do and she picked up the car keys and set out for a quick grocery run and picked up chicken, vegetables and ginger. She stopped by her apartment, picking up some comfortable clothes and her toothbrush and toiletries. _Just in case._ She wasn’t sure what the rules of engagement were exactly. 

When she returned, she checked on John, feeling his temperature. He was definitely running a fever now, his skin clammy and covered in a light sheen of sweat. She sat by his side for a moment, but he did not stir, his breathing rapid and labored through his congested nose. But she sat watching him, his expression soft and peaceful.

Then she set to making some chicken soup while he was sleeping soundly in his bedroom. The silence in his small apartment made her feel ill at ease and she’d put on some soft music to keep herself entertained while she was chopping and stirring, singing softly to herself as she prepared the food. And that was the sound John woke to, sluggish and confused as to why he was hearing an angelic voice. And even through his congested nose he could smell that something nice was cooking.

And while he wasn’t exactly hungry, his curiosity got the better of him and he needed to use the bathroom, so he got up, wrapped a blanket around himself and wobbled to his kitchen. The sight that greeted him made him feel warm and woozy. Lise had changed into a pair of leggings and a long sweater and was cooking in his kitchen and looked very much like she _belonged_ there and he couldn’t help but notice the soft ache that spread out from his heart throughout his body that had nothing at all to do with his other aches and pains. It was the soft ache of _want_.

Lise looked up from the pot that she had just taken a spoonful from when she heard a noise when he unsteadily grabbed onto a chair and she immediately rushed to his side, steadying him.

“Easy there.”

The nearness of him, his large body leaning heavily on her as he waited for the stars in front of his eyes to disappear, sent a jolt of lightning through her. He felt the chill of her hand against his neck and the touch felt soothing and electrifying at the same time.

“Sorry.” He smiled apologetically, his skin flushed.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Bathroom?”

“Ok. Hold on a second.” She pulled the pot off the stove before helping him. And separating from the way he clung to her, despite his apparent embarrassment, felt suddenly harder than she had a rational explanation for.

“You gonna be OK in here?”

He huffed. “Fine. You gonna give me a sponge bath next?”

And she huffed and at her raised eyebrows, he conceded. “Sorry. Was just feeling a little lightheaded. I should be OK.” A moment later, he added thoughtfully “Thank you.”

And a corner of her mouth shot up, a crooked smile crossing her face as she got out of there, her mind curiously _excited_ at the image he had put in her head. There were definitely butterflies lose in her belly.

He washed his face with a washcloth. The chills had stopped and he felt the heat of the fever. His body still ached all over and his chest was starting to ache as he started coughing after the exhaustion earlier. He slowly made it out into the kitchen again, hovering.

“You hungry?”

“You didn’t have to.” He said apologetically, his eyes glassy and maybe not just because of the fever, but with the warmth and care that her cooking had incited in him.

“Oh, de rien.” And added, almost as an afterthought. “You would have done the same for me.”

And his warm grey eyes found hers, grateful for her care and company. “Thank you.”

“Do you want to sit down? Or I can bring you some.”

And he sat down at the kitchen table as Lise got a pair of bowls ready and placed one in front of him, her right hand resting on his shoulder and he reached up, touching the cool skin of her hand. And of their own volition, her fingers caressed the back of his neck, across his hairline in a soft, smooth touch, before joining him at the table. This was getting out of hand fast.

They ate in silence and John was sure it tasted heavenly, but his tastebuds were pretty dead. But the warmth and the texture was soothing and between her caring touch and her cooking, he felt very much taken care of and felt the warmth spread from his belly again. He’d barely finished, when he felt his eyelids droop dangerously, eyes glassy and feeling feverish.

“Sorry. Not the best company.”

“You should go back to bed.”

John slipped under the covers again, sleepy, but trying to stay awake for a moment, just in case she checked in on him again. And sure enough, after a few moments of rustling and bustling in the kitchen, filling the dishwasher and making him a hot toddy, she checked in on him, setting the drink down on his nightstand and sitting down beside him again. He was definitely feverish, more so than before.

“You going to be OK here?” She asked softly, cool hand to his forehead.

“You’re not staying?” He asked disappointed, sipping from his drink.

“Do you want me to?”

“Stay. Please.” He pleaded quietly.

“OK. You sleep.”

And she watched over him as he drifted off to sleep, her presence making him relax far more than the drink ever could. After a while, she went to make herself a hot toddy, starting to wonder if she should make herself comfortable on the couch or if she should try and figure out where he kept his guest linens, when she heard a sound from the direction of his bedroom and went back to check.

He was clearly having a fever dream, murmuring “Stay.” over and over again. And she couldn’t have said what made her slip in next to him, on the covers, soothing his warm skin with a cool washcloth, whispering “I’m right here.” and “Not going anywhere” as she held him and rocked him back to sleep. And he clung to her, his head resting comfortably against her chest and somewhere between the alcohol and John’s scruffy beard against her flimsy shirt, she settled in and fell asleep, right there next to him and pulled the blanket over herself when she got chilly.

And something _undeniable_ shifted between them that night as John curled his large body into hers, limbs entwined and hearts wide open.


	9. Day 9 - Sick (Part III)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By popular demand: morning after fluff. Soppy sop. In fact, brush your teeth after this one - I can't be held responsible for cavities resulting from so much saccharine sweet fluff.

Lise woke, feeling strangely relaxed and warm until she took in her surrounds and realized she was not actually at home and she had a very warm John Cardinal in her arms. A John Cardinal that was not even trying to pretend that he’d been asleep, but had been savoring the warm embrace he’d woke up in and his gentle grey eyes had been watching her as she had still been breathing evenly and he did not stop when she started stirring, blinking against the light and taking in her unfamiliar surroundings.

She took in his expression – so peaceful and he didn’t shy away, but held her eyes and seemed to convey something very _intimate_ without as much as a word and her own lips tugged into a hesitant, fond smile.

“You’re looking better.”

And a broad smile, one the size she had never seen on John, spread out over his entire face.

“Yeah … you make for an excellent pillow.” And his eyes were dancing with humor and something else. Something that looked a lot like _hope_. And it should have been awkward, but it wasn’t – and she hadn’t moved and neither had John.

“Is that the fever talking?” She teased back, but with an air of earnestness underneath it all.

“I think the fever has broken.”

“Maybe for now. Might come back tonight.”

And she put her hand to his forehead to check for his temperature. “You still feel a little warm.” And her hand lingered, tracing his hairline and inadvertently turning into a tender caress as she ran her fingers through his hair.

He sighed contentedly, leaning subtly into her touch. “Mmmm, yes. I think I might need you to stick around a little longer.”

“Oh, is playing Nurse now part of my duties, Detective Cardinal?” She raised an eyebrow at him with a teasing undertone – but John called her bluff and read her reaction instinctively.

“Maybe I like having you around.” He smiled bashfully, leaning back a little so gauge her reaction.

And her eyes turned a little serious, studying his reaction with an intensity he knew well, her big brown eyes opening wide and scrutinizing the evidence, a little frown deepening between her eyebrows and as she found the answers in his, hesitancy, worry and hope flashed across her features, settling on curious and questioning.

“Maybe I _want_ you around.” And finally, the response he had been waiting for appeared as _fondness and happiness_ appeared in the form of a smile and the release of tension around her shoulders. She’d understood.

“All you had to do was ask.”

And John shifted a little, straightening his long body until he came face to face with her, touching her face tenderly “Will you stay the weekend?” And he felt her breathing quicken, saw a fire ignite in her eyes and leaned in, tentatively and she mirrored his actions and they met in a soft and tender kiss. His hand traveled down her body tentatively and carefully pulled her a little closer. He closed his eyes, just enjoying the feeling of her soft skin against his and nuzzled her neck, his scruffy beard itching a little against her skin. And they stayed like that, he dozed off again, still not feeling that well… but somehow feeling better than ever.

He woke again to the smell of coffee and something that made his stomach growl and he padded to the kitchen, finding Lise making pancakes.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” And as if it was the most natural thing in the world, he took her in his arms and kissed her again.

“Smells good.”

“Are you hungry?”

And he sat down at the counter as she piled up pancakes and maple syrup and fresh berries and whipped cream in front of him and he smiled happily, wondering briefly if perhaps he was dreaming and had to reach out and touch her to make sure he wasn’t asleep. And her hand easily slipped into his and he did his best to eat his breakfast with one hand only, so he didn’t have to let go.

But he was still pretty fatigued, his head pounding and his cough had started producing quite a bit of phlegm and whenever he recovered from a particularly violent coughing fit, he felt exhausted and while Lise was tidying up in the kitchen, he grabbed a blanket and settled on the couch, so he could watch her. But he needn’t have worried and she grabbed a book and a few magazines and joined him a few minutes later. He lifted his head a little, making room for her and she slipped in and his head fell into her lap. His eyes closed quickly, her soothing hand caressing his hair as she relaxed reading.

His fever returned later in the afternoon and his cough and congestion had worsened. She had slipped out while he’d been napping away the afternoon, after she’d surveyed the contents of his medicine cabinet and deciding to pick up some items from the pharmacy. The next time he woke, she made him a steam inhalation and then took off his shirt, massaging the pungent ointment carefully into his skin. He felt a little self-conscious, his body feeling sickly, old and _unattractive_ , but he couldn’t have said if it was the ointment or her touch, but it felt _good_. _Soothing._

And he fell asleep again, curled up against her as the fever rose again. And maybe he was a little febrile, but maybe he also meant every murmured word. “You’re good for me. You’ve always taken care of me.” And he couldn’t have been sure when he recalled what had transpired, but he thought she’d responded, curling her fingers in his hair. “I’ve always loved you.” But he was pretty sure that he managed to whisper “I’ve always loved _you_.”

And because he couldn't recall with certainty, he told her again the next day. And the day after. And told her even when he was completely recovered and back at work. And he asked, again and again and she was more than happy to stick around.


	10. Day 10 - Tree Time (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm officially braindead after this week, which probably explains the lackluster chapter ... but this is starting to look like another three parter, so there's hope it might get better, lol. Or it could turn into a twelve parter, you never know.
> 
> Lise needs help and lumberjack John is just the man for the job.

This year it was Lise’s turn to host the family Christmas party at her place. With them alternating every year and between her parents and three siblings, it had been a while since they had all come to her place for Christmas. She was usually too lazy to get a tree as she usually wasn’t home for most of the holidays anyway and there was something terribly depressing about being alone with a decorated tree.

But this year – she was going to get a tree. A _proper_ one. A _big_ one. There was just one problem … getting it up the flight of stairs to her living room. She’d picked it up earlier, a gorgeous and mostly enormous Frasier fir and the guy had helped her put it in the car and it barely fit, the passenger seat pulled all the way to the front to make room for it. And when she arrived him, she realized that she hadn’t really thought through how she would manage to get it _upstairs_. And she could only think of one solution. She hesitated a moment, not wanting to disturb him … but she had no other choice. He picked up after the first ring.

“Lise. Hey, you need anything?”

“Actually … I could use your help with something.”

John had been looking at another lonely night by himself, a book and a glass of wine by the fireplace. He hadn’t minded for a long time, but as the evenings got darker and the nights got colder, his life had started feeling a little emptier. And somehow, little by little the days leading up to Christmas had opened a dark hole in his soul that turned into a bottomless pit when Kelly had announced she was traveling to Europe over the Christmas break and wouldn’t be home.

And so he had not bothered to take out any of the decorations or bothered with a tree, just for himself. And as he sat there, in what was normally his favorite chair by the fire, he had felt that something was missing keenly. And when her phone call came, it had warmed his heart and joining her in her efforts had been a more than welcome distraction and perhaps more than that, he felt a sudden longing deep within for precisely that kind of _partnership_. And when she’d explained her current predicament, he didn’t hesitate for a moment, volunteering happily to help her lug the tree upstairs.

And he changed out of his sweatpants, putting on a casual flannel shirt and a pair of comfortable jeans and threw on his warm winter parka and drove over to Lise’s, finding her by her car, trying to wrestle the damn tree out of the car and failing miserably and he rushed to her side, jumping in to help her.

“Gentle, gentle, you don’t want to take half the needles off before you even get it inside!”

And there was something about her cheeks that had flushed bright red with effort and her impatient, firey expression that brought a smile to his face and made him think twice about teasing her and he went to the passenger side and untangled the stubborn branches.

“Here, let me.” He offered to take the heavy stump.

“I don’t know what I was thinking. It’s enormous!”

“You picked a gorgeous tree, Lise. Come on, let’s get his beauty upstairs.” And maybe, just maybe, she flushed at his compliment. 

And by the time they’d made it upstairs with the tree, knocking over a few items going through the narrow entry and stairwell, they were both panting with exertion and collapsed on her couch, the tree lying on the floor, their faces breaking out into happy, but exhausted smiles.

“Thanks. Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“We’re not done yet. Where do you have the stand?”

And she looked at home quizzically.

“Oh jeez… I don’t have one.”

“But you do have decorations, right?”

And she stared at him, brown eyes wide and slightly confused.

“I … uhm … this is the first tree I’ve gotten since ... Josh took his stand with him. And his decorations.” She replied sheepishly.

And somehow, John found her flustered appearance entirely endearing and he had to admit, the fact that that particular stand was no longer in her life, filled him with a strange sort of _satisfaction_. And helping her with her Christmas tree had made his earlier Christmas blues disappear entirely.

“OK. How about this – I go and grab the stand and the decorations from my place and you order us something to eat. Fair?”

And her eyes nearly filled with tears of happiness, overwhelmed at his gesture. And he was back before the food came, lugging a stack of boxes from the car.

“You sure you don’t need this stuff yourself?” She asked, a little embarrassed at his generosity.

“Not getting a tree this year. Hardly worth it just for myself.”

“Kelly’s not coming?” She asked, shocked.

“She’s … uhm … travelling to Europe with a friend.”

“Well … you could come visit this one then.”

Her response was a little breathless, a little _hopeful_.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Won’t your family be here?”

“They won’t mind.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Join us. But you’re gonna need an ugly Christmas sweater, just so you know.”

“I can do ugly sweater.” He said smiling.

And they were interrupted by the doorbell and the arrival of their dinner. And after dinner … they set to decorating the tree.


	11. Day 11 - Tree Time (Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, I'm very drunk right now and listening to Christmas music. This is full of sap. Tree sap. Or maybe just sap.

They settled in the kitchen to enjoy their dinner as the tree was lying in the middle of the living room and there was barely any space between the tree and the boxes John had brought over. Lise cracked open a bottle of wine and their conversation quickly turned to Kelly and what her Europe plans were and who her mysterious friend was. John was happy to share and even happier that Lise was so interested – not just in his daughter, but in his feelings about spending the holidays without her and how he felt about her new “friend.”

And John started asking about her family, something he had never really done before and Lise had not been one to bring it up on her own. He was trying to make an effort to at least learn everyone’s names before meeting them and if he should avoid any specific topics of conversation. And somewhat nervously, he asked if they would be speaking _French_ and her laugh was infectious when he told her his French was terrible. “As if I didn’t know that already.” She snickered, maybe slightly tipsy. “They’ll eat you alive. “ She said seriously and provoked a shocked and worried expression. And she finally cracked up laughing. “You’ll be fine. They’ll love you. But the cooking will definitely be _French_.”

And his relief was tangible and his cheeks reddened just a little. And maybe it was the wine, but John felt an odd warmth spread around his heart, a warmth he had not felt since the Christmas before Catherine had passed away. Like he’d found some long lost holiday cheer again and he was actually starting to look forward to the holidays.

When they’d put the leftovers in the fridge and the dishes in the dishwasher, Lise topped up their wine glasses, emptying the bottle and she took her glass and went to the living room and he followed behind. John started unpacking the boxes, explaining what was in which while they continued sipping on their wine.

“Well, how about we start by putting this big guy in the stand.” John suggested, digging out the stand from the bottom of one of the boxes and getting it set up. “Here, why don’t you do this part here and I’ll get the tree upright.”

And a jolt of lightning went through them both as their hands touched when she took over the stand from him and he brushed against her as he moved to get a hold of the tree. She flushed, hiding her face and he felt the blood pound in his stomach, distracting himself by hefting the big tree up. And they’d managed to get it set up.

“Now … where do you want your tree?” John asked.

“Our tree." She admonished. "I don’t know … do you think the corner is better or the middle of the room?”

“Well … you’ll be having lots of people over. Maybe the corner? You’ll have to make sure to water it and maybe spray some water on it regularly to keep it fresh.”

And they maneuvered the tree into the corner and couldn’t quite avoid touching each other again as they worked together to move the tree in its stand. And Lise went to grab a pitcher and filled up the reservoir with water while John looked for the tree rug and got that set up under the tree.

“So … what next?”

“Do you want some tea?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice.”

“I have this nice Chai …”

“That sounds great.” And maybe John was a little drunk after all that wine and a huge smile spread on his face. “Do you want me to light a fire in the fireplace while you make tea?”

“Oh that’s a wonderful idea, John. I rarely do for myself.”

And she disappeared into the kitchen and he heard rustling and cabinet doors opening and closing while he got the fire started.

When she returned some ten minutes later with two steaming mugs and a plate of Shortbread cookies, he’d had a good fire going and the room was doused in the warmth of the fire and its warm light, giving it an entirely cozy atmosphere.

“You got some Christmas music?”

“Yeah.” And Lise grabbed her little speaker and started playing from her phone and they sipped on their hot teas and started munching on the cookies.

“So, do we start with the lights?” Lise asked.

“Uhm … well, I don’t actually have _lights_.” And with an embarrassed smile, feeling positively ancient, produced vintage looking candle holders from one of the boxes along with a leftover box of white candles. “Unless you’d rather buy lights?”

And her eyes shone and he could have sworn they were getting a little moist. “Non. Les bougies sont parfaits.”

“Just be careful you don’t set the tree on fire.” He joked, making an effort to lighten the mood.

And a grin spread over her face. “That will be your job.”

“Just be careful to put them out on the branches so they won’t be as likely to set anything ablaze.”

And they started putting the candle holders on the tree, along with the white candles, each starting at their height, Lise taking the bottom and John the top. And from time to time, they would bump into each other and with each passing time, the awkwardness melted until John happily bumped into her on purpose, just enjoying the bright laugh it provoked and he made a mental note to make her laugh more often.

“There’s different colors baubles. Do you have a preference?”

And Lise peeked inside the box. “I love the white, silver and glass ones.”

“Those are my favorites too.” And he smiled warmly, taking a box from her and starting to put them up. When she was happy with the baubles, she added a bit of lametta that she found in one of the boxes.

And they stood back, admiring their handiwork and John automatically reached an arm around her, drawing her against his side. He only realized what he’d done when he felt her stiffen for a mere moment, before she relaxed into his lose embrace.

“We make a pretty good team.”

“We’ve always been great _partners_.” He added seriously.

“Do you have a topper?” She asked after a while, an awkward silence having fallen between them as neither made an effort to move from their position.

“There should be a star here somewhere.” He replied, lowering his arm from around her shoulders and bending down to search the boxes. “Here it is.” And as an afterthought. “Kelly picked it when she was little.” And a strange sort of melancholy came over him and she sensed his change in mood immediately and reached out for his arm and the tender moment brought him back to his current reality.

“You could send her a picture of the tree. Do you think she’d like that.”

And a rumbling, guttural laugh rose from the depth of his throat. “Yeah, that’s a nice idea. Here, you go put it on.”

And Lise climbed on top of a precarious looking stool, unsteadily placing the final ornament on as John hovered. And she lost her balance a little bit coming down and his warm arms wrapped around her steading her and she held onto his shoulders for balance. He held her weight easily and let her slip down to the floor gently.

And they both held their breath at the close contact, neither releasing the other until he smiled and said “Here. Let’s take one of us with the tree. She’ll like that.” And he got his phone out of his pocket, holding it far away from them and taking a picture of the both of them with their tree, both beaming into the camera.

And Lise smiled happily. “This was really nice.”

And he agreed. And not wanting the night to end just yet, Lise scrambled for some excuse to make him stay a bit longer.

“Did you want some more tea or wine? Or I’ve got some Caribou Crossing somewhere.”

“Uhm, that does sound nice.”

“I could make us some hot toddies.”

“Even better.”

And she went to the kitchen again, rustling around and boiling water in the kettle while he settled on her sofa, licking the last crumbs of the cookies from the plate. And she came back with two steaming tea glasses with steaming hot toddies with cut lemons and a cinnamon stick and she set them down on the coffee table. And she sat down next to him, closer than he would have expected and he felt a little tingle rush through his stomach. She sipped a few sips, but it was still too hot too drink and she blew over the hot drink in an effort to cool it down.

“Wanna light them?” he asked, distracting her momentarily. The idea of returning to his cold apartment was not that appealing and staying with her, watching the candles burn down on their tree seemed like the far better alternative.

“Yeah.” She perked up. And she grabbed her lighter, starting to light the candles as he sat and watched her, while sipping the first sips of his hot drink. And when she was done, she hit the light switch and her face lit up with wonder at the warm glow of the candles. She returned to John on the sofa who had been watching her intently and she sat down next to him, first a good distance from him, but she kept wiggling, bring her legs up under her and nestling into his side and his arm wound its way around her shoulders again. And with a good bit of wine and whisky in her, her head dropped on his shoulder and she sighed happily, watching the candles burn. And the exertion from lugging the tree around caught up with her and her eyes started drooping and she eventually closed them, falling asleep nestled into John Cardinal.

And when she’d begun snoring lightly, he allowed his head to settle atop hers, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead and whispering “Merry Christmas, Lise.” into her hair. And when the candles had burned all the way down and his head warm and heavy with whisky and Lise Delorme in his arms, he fell asleep too.


	12. Day 12 - Tree Time (Part III)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A) This is turning into every cheesy Christmas movie on Netflix. I would know. I have seen them *all*.   
> B) I probably should have made this a story since it has taken on a life of its own and is not about to end and I was really, really, really going to drop some smut for the weekend, alas ... I also like ramping up the sexual tension until it's about to explode and them feigning terrible pokerfaces while wanting each other so much it hurts is actually kind of my jam.  
> HAPPY SUNDAY!  
> (No True North update ... I wrote a bit ahead on the next chapter of this one so I will have something to post tomorrow, since I go into work tomorrow and boy, I'm brain dead on a good day, but going in basically puts me into a coma because I try to cram a week's worth of stuff into one day). So you know, not sure when that epilogue will drop.)

John woke sometime during the night, the tension in his back bothering him and his arm had fallen asleep. He’d somehow dropped to the side, his head coming to rest on the armrest of the sofa. He adjusted himself, putting a pillow under his neck and bringing up his legs onto the sofa, his feet dangling comically over the edge of the far end.

Once he’d become fully aware of his surroundings, he became aware of the light weight against his side and he found her, occupying the narrow space between him and the backrest, her body partially draped over his, her head tucked into his shoulder and her arm resting over his chest. And he considered his options – he could go home, he could pick her up and put her into her own bed … or he could pretend he never woke up.

It might not have been the most rational decision he’d ever made, but he drew down the blanket from the backrest, drawing it over them, jostling her a little so he could wrap his arm around her back and he shimmied his body down a little, into a more comfortable position, curling into her so they wouldn’t fall off the small sofa.

And that’s how she woke, in the morning as the sun crept in through the window. Her neck was a little sore and she was a little stiff, but once she realized she was in a warm cocoon of John Cardinal, she closed her eyes again, sighing in softly and tightening her arm around his torso. And she listened to his breathing and her hand remained over his heartbeat, savoring the feeling. And she couldn’t have said how much time had passed and she may have dozed off again until she felt him stirring.

And she’d felt something else stirring. John Cardinal had a slight case of morning wood. And she flushed deep red, trying not to move, but couldn’t help but stare. _Slight_ was really not the right description as the heat of the moment flushed through her, top to bottom. And he too, must have been become aware of his predicament, as he disentangled himself from her gently, perhaps believing that she was indeed still asleep, and disappeared into the bathroom.

She bolted up, embarrassed and busied herself in the kitchen, making coffee and offered him a mug when he finally emerged.

“We should probably get going, don’t wanna be late.” Lise said.

He grumbled something. “Need to stop by home and get a change of clothes. Can’t go in looking like this.”

“Oh, uhm, sure … I’ll … uhm … see you there in a few?”

She stood awkwardly by the counter and he hovered. It seemed like … something was missing from their brief goodbye and it had seemed like … like he was going to hug her. Or kiss her maybe. But she lowered her eyes and the moment was gone and he grabbed his coat, hat and shawl. Leaving a very flustered Lise Delorme behind. 

She sat at her desk, trying desperately to concentrate on the previous day’s paperwork, but couldn’t help but be distracted by the previous night’s (and the she added mentally … morning’s) events. And when John entered the precinct, showered and shaved, it got even _harder_.

Somehow they had found themselves in a strangely enchanted world the previous night, so far from their day to day interactions, that she found it difficult to adjust to the harsh light of day. He seemed to have no trouble with it. And so she sat there, all day, sneaking looks up at him and when ever he caught her eyes lingering, a soft smile tugged at his lips. They were dancing around each other at the coffee machine and his complete and utter lack of acknowledgement and his enigmatic silence drove her up the wall. Later in the day, she thought he’d already left and she packed up her stuff in a huff. He could at least have said goodbye!

And she ran smack into him just as she was leaving and he was coming up the stairs and it looked like he’d been down in the archives. To be exact, he had been _hiding_ down in the archive as her sheer presence, the soft swell of her breasts that had been pressed up against him all night and her sweet pleasant scent in his nose, had become very distracting and he’d had a _hard_ time focusing on anything. And he’d snuck downstairs when she’d been off to the bathroom.

“Oh, hey. So that’s where you’ve disappeared to.”

“Yeah, uhm. Filing…” And he faltered and his heart picked up a beat when he realized how close she was standing again.

“Right.” And she looked at him questioningly and he knew she didn’t buy it.

“So … uhm. When is your family coming?”

“Tomorrow. Late afternoon.”

“Soooo … you all set?

“Non. Have to pick groceries and maybe get started on some of the dishes.”

And he hesitated, knowing full well he was putting himself in the exact situation he’d been trying to avoid for the past hours. “You need help?” And she hesitated, unsure what his offer meant and as if he could read her mind, he quietly added. “Least I can do if I’m going to crash your Christmas dinner.”

And she reacted to that immediately. Because that wasn’t how she felt at all … she was longing to have him around. “You’re not crashing - I invited you!”

“I … I’d like to help. _Really_.” And at his sincere look, she felt her heart drop to her stomach and there they were again. The butterflies. Somehow, John Cardinal’s puppy dog eyes had that effect.

“Give me an hour?”

“Sure.”


	13. Day 13 - Tree Time (Part IV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes. I am actually trying to kill you with the sexual tension. It's what I exist for.

And so, John picked her up an hour later from her place and they headed to the store together. Lise had an enormous shopping list. And John welcomed the distraction and happily studied the list. As if it hadn’t been bad enough at work. Now she’d had time to grab a shower, her scent fresh and floral and completely overwhelming in the car. She’d definitely put on some perfume that mingled perfectly with her own scent. And was that makeup? Just a touch. But her lips were definitely a shade darker than they usually were. And just a touch of eyeshadow, accentuating her large brown orbs.

And she’d changed into a dress and _boots_. The dress was casual enough, comfortable and not in any way racy. But the long, laced-up, high-heeled _boots_ that brought her just a few inches higher than she usually stood? And as she stalked ahead of him, grabbing a cart, he couldn’t help but notice how those damn heels accentuated her curves. And when he stood there, not moving, she flashed him a smile that made him seriously wonder if she had _any_ idea what effect she had on him.

“You coming?”

And Lise was definitely pleased that John Cardinal was a man of flesh and blood after all. And he shuffled after her, taking over the cart from her and watching her as she placed things in the cart that he’d never heard of and wasn’t sure it even qualified as _food_. And he reveled in the easy domesticity of it all and was happy to let her take the lead. It had been years since he’d done anything like this, had more than a good friend – Lise, Jerry – over and there was something very _nice_ about sharing something as simple as grocery shopping.

They fought briefly about who was going to pay for the food at checkout and in a huff, John pulled the bottle of whisky and the wines he could get a hold of out of the cart. “Fine! At least let me pay for the drinks.” And she actually let him and it brought a smile to her face. He was a gentleman, through and through, despite his sometimes gruff exterior and the thought made the butterflies stir again. And he was only too eager to bag the groceries and putting them back into the cart.

On the way to the car, John still pushing the cart, she slipped on a patch of ice, not having paid too much attention to where she was walking. She grabbed onto his arm and he instinctively brought his arm around to steady her, bringing her in very direct contact with his body and the air crackled between them as she found solid ground again. She smiled up at him sheepishly and he flushed, her scent shutting his brain down, unable to formulate a witty response. He transferred the bags to the back of his car and she returned the cart.

The drive back was quiet and he lugged the majority of the bags, laden heavily with groceries, up to her apartment. And she seemed to twirl around in her kitchen, putting things away with a slightly nervous edge as he brought more bags, with his usual stoic tranquility. And somehow, that whirlwind caught him in its vortex and he could have watched her bounce around her kitchen, elegant and delicate, but with an energy that pulled him into her magnetic field, wanted him to be a part of _that_ energy.

“So … what do you want me to help with?”

And she directed him to make Caribou, so they’d have something to start with when her family got there. They would usually cook together, but some drinks and appetizers to start with would be appreciated. And of course anything with a longer cooking time. And he wasn’t too sure on the taste of his concoction and made her take a spoonful and right then and there, he wanted to kiss the taste off her lips when she beamed up at him. “This is _great_.”

Meanwhile, she was working studiously on _something_ on the stove that looked a lot like _feet_. And he gave her a very dubious look and she just flashed a smile at him that made him forget all about the feet, but made him crowd her there at the stove, leaning over her shoulder, pretending to inspect the contents of her pot. And he only barely stopped himself from placing his hands on her hips, letting them hang useless by his side instead. 

She shrugged lightly at him. “Patton de cochon. It’s _tradition_.“ And as she continued to stir, adding spices and the remainder of the recipe, she explained. “My sister will bring the Bûche. And my mother will make the _Tourtière_ when she’s here. And you made the Caribou this year.” She added, smiling to herself.

“Do you … attend mass?” He asked nervously and she broke out into a loud, infectious grin.

“ _Non_. We just eat and get drunk and exchange gifts.”

And John remembered that there was something he’d gotten for her and he’d need to wrap the small box.

“Should I get them anything?”

“They weren’t expecting you. They won’t have anything for you, don’t worry.”

“Do you even have enough space for everyone?”

“Uhm … it’ll be fine. There’s the guest room and my brother and his family got a motel room and we’ll just pull out the sofa and put up …”

And he interrupted gently “Don’t be silly. I have a guest room. And Kelly’s old bedroom ….” He trailed off.

“Are you saying my couch isn’t comfortable?” And she’d had a bit more of that Caribou and she was dangerously tipsy.

“Well, not really …” And she wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, but she also knew her couch wasn’t that comfortable. Not if you were trying to keep your wits about you in the morning.

“Ok.” She studied his face carefully, reading his thoughts. “Maybe I could stay in Kelly’s room. Then my parents can have my bedroom. And my sister the guest room.”

“Good. Then it’s settled.”

And she was definitely tipsy, but stood on her tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his stubbled cheek. “Merci.” And his arms wrapped around her without a second thought. “You’re welcome.”

And they separated slowly, lingering in each other’s personal space. 

“Anything else?” John asked eventually. Releasing her from his arms, but she remained far closer than the personal space they usually respected.

“Non. I think we’re all set.” And she hesitated, not wanting him to leave just yet, it was still early. “You hungry?”

“Oh, you don’t have to …” 

“I bought some cheese and stuff….” And her eyes found his, searching for what he meant. “… if you are.”

“Yeah. Yeah. If you are … I mean.”

“A girl’s gotta eat, John.” She joked, grabbing cheese and appetizers from the fridge. “You want wine?”

“Sure.”

“White good?”

“Yeah.” And he was so far gone, he was just smiling stupidly at her as she fixed up a plate of cheese and meats.

“You mind opening the wine?” She gestured at the bottle next to the fridge while she was added some olives and cherry tomatoes and nuts. And by now, he knew where to find the bottle opener and the glasses and poured themselves a glass while she finished up the plate.

“Living room?” He asked unnecessarily and she nodded, following him with the plate of food. Going back for a few slices of freshly baked baguette and some butter while John settled on the sofa again, admiring their previous day's handiwork.

And John sighed happily at the first taste of one of the cheeses. “Huh?” Lise asked at his reaction.

“Sure beats cereal.”

She shrugged and smiled. “Bon appétit.”

And as John dug in, she sat down next to him again, drawing her legs under herself and the way she was leaning into him, picking some cheese from the plate and loading it onto a piece of bread, he thought to himself that he could definitely get used to _this_.

And the snow was falling lightly outside her window and they enjoyed the simple dinner quietly, their tree in the corner of the room, the kitchen smelling of food and _Christmas_.

They'd long ago finished off the plate and their glasses of wine and John, hating to interrupt the quiet moment, felt he should say something “I should … get going.”

Lise, _disappointed_ , replied “Yeah. I guess.” And he started getting a hold of the glasses and the plate, carrying them over to the kitchen. And they stood by her door, awkwardly. They had been here before and somehow, neither of them had wanted to part any less than they did right now.

“Good night, Lise.” And John’s head hung low, as if he was trying to get closer to her small figure.

And she longed to reach out to him, ask him to stay, but instead, she found herself saying goodbye. “Good night, John.” And with a final impulsive thought, she reached up and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “ _Merci_.”

And he drew her into a brief hug. “Thank _you_.” And smiled happily until he reluctantly withdrew from her small body, looking back over his shoulder as he walked away through the freshly fallen snow. And she stood at her door, watching him walk away. Maybe _tomorrow_ …


	14. Day 14 - Tree Time (Part V)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This IS turning into a monster fluff multi-chapter thing. But I'm having way too much fun with this for it to just end.
> 
> John meets the Delormes.

And the next day passed in a flurry of activity. They had both slept poorly, the previous night having left them with adrenaline they were both unsure what to do with and they had ended up tossing and turning, in their separate beds, apart from each other. And the day passed quickly, with people on edge on Christmas Eve and them having to deal with a few riled-up couples and families, overanxious at the looming holiday. Unlike John and Lise … they were eagerly awaiting the evening, neither of them being able to quite vocalize _why_ they were feeling giddy as a kid on Christmas Eve.

John left early, letting her know he’d stop by his place to freshen up and make up the guest room and he’d by later. He was the first one to arrive, his large frame filling her doorframe. He had cleaned up and the butterflies fluttered against her insides, at his freshly trimmed face and the mop of hair that always seemed unruly and boyish. But she made him positively speechless, her entire face beaming up at him and he couldn’t help himself and pulled her into a hug.

And her parents pulled up right behind him, when they made their way up to her door, she introduced him in _English_. And she did not really think about what she was saying or she might have realized that the way she introduced him might have been misconstrued. “This is my _partner_ , John Cardinal. John – my parents, Emilie and Guy.” And John shook their hands, trying awkwardly to greet them in French.

She invited them inside, John making room and vacating the doorway and helping her mother out of her coat and going back to their car to grab their bags. Her mother muttered to her “Tu n’as pas pu nous trouver un francophone ? “ And she muttered under her breath “Maman, s’il t’est plait. Soit gentil.” And it didn’t occur to her until quite some time later that her mother was commenting on her choice of _boyfriend_ , having assumed that that was what she had meant by _partenaire._ It wasn’t like she’d had much choice in the matter – it had come from above when she’d been asked to investigate him.

And from then on, the _Delormes_ just started piling up. Her sister was next and somehow, he had not expected someone so different from Lise. Younger, dark haired, very athletic and clearly a free spirit very unlike her bigger sibling, he would not have recognized her as her sister if they’d met under any other circumstances. But his skilled eyes took in the family resemblances – Lise being a carbon copy of her father, down to the smile around their eyes, while her sister was definitely taking after their mother.

Meanwhile, her mother had taken over the kitchen and he tried to help where he could, serving appetizers and some of that Caribou he’d prepared the night before. And she was saying words he couldn’t make sense of and he had a hard time following her, her accent much stronger than Lise’s. Sometimes, John swore she was speaking French at him.

And with her mother and her sister speaking rapidly at each other, clearly not in agreement over something, he was more than confused and felt a little ill at ease. And he got an idea what Lise might have been like without a streak of a more tempered disposition, but he could see where the fiery side of her temperament came from. That spunk her younger sister had in heaps.

But her father stepped in, speaking English in a low timber at half the speed. “Don’t mind them, they are too much alike. Always getting into each other’s hair.” John was grateful for the translations, but he also sensed a curiosity and a thinly veiled assessment of _himself_ and clearly, that was much worse. And he was wondering how someone not that much older than him and quite a few inches shorter made him feel like schoolboy. And he knew those eyes, staring into his, reading him and his _intentions_ with open curiosity and he knew with absolute certainty who she was taking after, who she had that ability from to look into someone’s – _his_ \- soul. 

And her brothers arrived at nearly the same time, the first with his young and boisterous next generation in tow and for some reason, the littlest Delorme took a liking to John’s beard and before he knew it, he had his hands full with a tiny human being whose eyes sure also looked a lot like a pair he knew and _loved._ And he found himself melting at the little boy who babbled at him happily in French, a blond mop of hair covering his curious eyes and when the boy’s mother had tried to relieve John, the boy wailed and for everyone’s sake, John accepted that “Onca Shon” would be entertaining him all night.

It reminded him of when Kelly had been small and it had been some time ago, but he’d remembered how tiring those short nights had been and he could hardly believe it now, as he was smiling and giggling as the boy toddled away and returned shortly thereafter, dragging a small backpack behind him and took out a Lego airplane and some small books. And he took John by his finger, dragging him to the sofa and before he knew it, John found himself trying to read French children’s books, the littlest Delorme snuggled into his lap. And whenever he slipped into English, the little boy squealed with delight and John found himself charmingly coerced into telling the stories in different English voices.

Lise had been running around, getting everyone set up, responding to questions in the kitchen, arbitrating between the two very headstrong women at work there that she’d hardly had time to worry about Cardinal. As long as her brother’s weren’t yet there to grill him, he’d be fine, although she’d feared her mother’s non too subtle hints. She wondered what she’d said to him earlier. Her mother had liked Josh and she’d had an easy go of it with him, he’d lacked John’s instinctual understanding of human nature.

And it had seemed that John had successfully ignored her probing questions. All the better. She’d overheard her asking if he was married and had children and he’d replied that he was a widower and she’d bitten her tongue, not intervening and translating between them. And when she’d asked about children, he’d told her about his grown daughter, gallivanting around Europe.

She hadn’t quite understood her mother’s meaning until later, when he’d been dragged off by the toddler and the women were busy in the kitchen, preparing different dishes and her mother dropped the bomb. “Il n’est pas un francophone, mais je suis certain qu’il a une grande bite.” And Lise flushed a deep crimson, yelped “Maman!” and left the kitchen in a huff. Perhaps not so much because her mother had embarrassed her, but perhaps because she’d been having a hard time getting the image of John’s burgeoning morning _glory_ out of her head. And maybe, if she hadn’t been to distracted by her own stray thoughts, she might have realized that her mother wasn’t commenting on her _work_ partner’s endowment.

Having lost sight of him, she went looking for him to make sure her brothers hadn’t ganged up on him – and the sight he presented had an effect she had never anticipated. Louis was curled up in his lap and he was reading her nephew some kind of story in the cutest imaginable mixture of French and English. And seeing him interact with the little boy sent a sudden jolt of lightning through her and she wanted nothing more than to sit down next to him, like they had been sitting the last couple of days and listen to him and the tiny Delorme have nonsensical conversations.

She’d always loved Kelly and she’d always seen her as the result of John’s wonderful, patient and warmhearted parenting, but she’d only ever seen him interact with his _adult_ daughter. Seeing him with a toddler that was babbling mostly nonsense, a toddler who looked so much like her and seeing him enjoy himself so much, made her suddenly wonder if perhaps _Josh_ had been the problem all along. And just briefly, she wondered what those Cardinal genes, those intelligent and caring eyes he’d clearly shared with his daughter, might look like on a much smaller being. And a forbidden thought attached itself to that one, making her flush a deep shade of crimson and something undefinable tugged at her heartstrings.

And naturally, her brother seemed to step in right at that moment, teasing his sister relentlessly.


	15. Day 15 - Tree Time (VI)

And as they sat down to dinner, it was only natural that they would be sitting next to each other with her parents and her sister to her right and her brothers and her oldest brother’s family to his left. They started digging in, enjoying the good food, the lively conversation in French and English around the table and after some pleasant introductions, her brothers did start grilling John, about his job, how they had met and their questions only seemed a _little_ odd at times.

And maybe he only didn’t notice because he was slightly distracted by her, enjoying the feeling of her body vibrating with laughter next to him from time to time. Somehow, she seemed more animated when she spoke _French_ or maybe it was just family dynamics he didn’t quite understand yet, that made her more fiery and impulsive than he knew her. 

And she found time to check in with him from time to time, being able to enjoy an almost private conversation between the two of them when she turned his way, speaking in a low voice, leaning his way and explaining something or just chatting with him. And when she reached for a dish or handed something his way, her thigh would brush against his and somehow, that small physical contact tethered him and made him feel like he _belonged_ there. By her side.

The dinner was a lovely, casual and drawn-out affair, but eventually they moved to the living room, settling around in different chairs and sofas over the room. And that’s when sudden understanding dawned on both John and Lise. Lise had been tidying up a few things in the kitchen, bringing desserts and teas and coffees into the living room – and there was not a single seat left.

Her mother jovially announced that the “Les deux tourtereaux pourraient facilement partager la causeuse”. And a horrified and very embarrassed expression passed over Lise’s face as she was about to rush to correct them, wanting to explain that John was actually her “partenaire _de travail_ ”. She stood, like a deer caught in the headlights, hoping desperately that John had not understood a word of what was being said, but of course he had not trouble figuring out what _that_ commotion was about, especially after her sister felt the need to second her mother’s assertion in _English_.

And as Lise was standing shell shocked, mouth gaping open – John gave her a telltale raise of his eyebrow, wiggled his ears and … did he just _wink_ at her? And since there really wasn’t any room left, he did try and make room on the loveseat, but just ended up pulling her into his lap. And Lise needed a moment to adjust to the unfamiliar feeling of the heat of his body seeping into hers. And she felt goosebumps break out down her neck when he whispered into her ear “Why spoil the good mood …” And she was a little uncomfortable for a moment or two … but she fit perfectly.

And they lit the candles on the Christmas tree, commenting on what a wonderful job they’d done decorating and they smiled at each other, pleased and maybe, just maybe, got a little lost in each other’s eyes when they did. And they were singing Christmas carols, a mix of French and English classics, and he was surprised to learn that she had a beautiful soprano and it was probably that exact moment when he realized he was in _love_ with his partner and loved her even more for all the layers he’d uncovered over the past days.

He had always known that he harbored complicated feelings for his _partner_ , even when he had been married. She’d been dogged, relentless in the pursuit of the investigation into him, he had feared and admired her intelligence and her instincts. And he had always found her attractive, that wasn’t even lost on his late wife or his daughter – she was an attractive woman after all. But it was so much more than that - she complemented him, mentally and emotionally, she kept him grounded and he couldn’t have said at which exact moment in time he had started _needing_ her.

It wasn’t when his wife had died – it was already too late then and he’d known she’d be by his side, trusting him implicitly and loyal to him to a fault. Their connection unbreakable. But somehow he had never allowed himself to see her as anything _more_. Maybe out of respect for her professionally, fearing his attachment might somehow taint her reputation. And that had worked … as long as he saw her as his partner and not a _woman_.

And now, it was _hard_ to forget. Between the makeup and the perfume and the dress, it was damn near impossible. And between their warm and full bellies and the copious amounts of _Caribou_ and wine, they gave into the easy warmth and the laughter and magic of Christmas. She leaned back into him, resting her head against his shoulder and his arms automatically wound around her, their hands joining, fingers threading. And the warm rumble of her laughter vibrated through him as they watched as the littlest Delorme opened his presents first, so his parents could finally put him to bed. And it didn’t seem at all strange when John pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.


	16. Day 16 - Tree Time (VII)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments - I'm so glad you are all enjoying this little piece. It's a more than welcome distraction from   
> work as I'm battling year-end insanity and diving into this little world at the end of the day is very nice, although it's quite the feat keeping up with it, because *sleep* is also nice.

And they exchanged presents and Lise would always insist it was from _both_ of them. And eventually, the evening drew to a close. The tired parents of little Louis packing up first, citing the need to put the boy down properly and not just in Lise’s bedroom. And John was still holding hands with her when she said her goodbyes, a tender hand stroking the boy’s blonde hair, asleep in his father’s arms and her small gesture filled him a sudden strong paternal longing and he pulled her back into his large form.

And Lise made sure everyone was settled and would find everything for the night as John was busy loading the dishwasher and cleaning up the kitchen where she eventually joined him. “You ready to go?” And she nodded, tiredly and she packed up a few things as he sat on the sofa waiting for her. And when he didn’t move to get up, she sat down next to him, leaning back against the backrest.

“I … uh … I had a really nice time.” John told her.

“Me too. Thank you … for … _everything_.” She replied, her eyes shining brightly, flushing a little at _everything_.

How exactly did one say ‘Thank you for pretending to be my … _boyfriend_.’?

After a small pause, she said. “I got you something.”

“Me? Spending Christmas with you was more than enough, Lise.” He exclaimed.

And she grabbed a rectangular object in green wrapping paper with a red bow around it that had been at the very back of the tree, almost hidden in the corner, thrusting it into his hands.

“Open it.” She grinned happily and he gently removed the bow, threading his fingers underneath the wrapping paper and carefully lifting it and unfolding the book inside.

His eyes teared up as his large fingers traced the elegant golden writing on the red cover. It was a vintage edition of ‘A Christmas Carol.’ And his hand clasped her smaller one in his and drew her small hand to his lips, kissing her hand.

“It’s perfect … where did you find this?”

And she told him about the time she’d been down to Toronto, to talk to an old colleague about a job a few months ago. And on her way back to her car, deeply in thought about whether she wanted to take that job, if she even wanted to leave, she’d gotten lost and found herself in front of a small antiquarian book store. And there it had been, on display right by the register. And it had made her think of him … and it had made her change her mind.

“Look at you … saving me from having to spend Christmas alone and turning into Ebenezer Scrooge.” He joked lightly, his glossy eyes betraying his light tone, drawing her into a hug and whispering “Thank you. For _everything_.”

How did one say ‘Thank you for saving my life, more than once. And most of all, thank you for _staying_.’?

“You … uh … haven’t opened your present either.” He said, smiling sheepishly. And sure enough, there, under the Christmas tree, at the foot of the stand, was a small box wrapped in white glossy paper with silver swirls and a small silver bow around it.

And her eyes bore into his with a sudden intensity as her brown orbs widened, looking at him with open curiosity. And he got up to get it, the small box fitting easily into the palm of his hand.

“It’s nothing big.” He said embarrassed. “Just made me think of you.”

And she gingerly took the small box from him, slowly sliding the bow over its edges and gently tugging the paper from around the box, a smile playing over her lips. She held a small jewelry box in her hands and when she opened it, she found two small diamond studs sparkling at her in the dim light.

“John!” she exclaimed, raising her eyes in surprise. And Lise took the first stud and put it in her ears, followed by the second. “They’re beautiful.”

“Like you.” He replied gruffly and before he could think better of it, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, caressing her cheek gently.

And Lise, teary eyed, thanked him, moving to press a soft kiss against his cheek. Only he was turning against her at the same moment and before she could stop herself, her lips brushed softly over his lips instead. And he reacted instinctively, capturing her lips with his and deepening the kiss.

And when they came up for air, John added breathlessly. “I’m in _love_ with you.”

And she laughed, relieved. “I was really hoping I wasn’t imagining things.” Grinning broadly at him before kissing him again, mumbling “I love you” onto his lips.

It was well past midnight by the time they made it to the car. They were both quiet, but smiling at each other now and again, sneaking looks at the other as they drove through the dark night, the car’s headlights illuminating the snow around them. And John’s hand came to rest on the console between them and his eyes drifted downwards as his pinkie tamely brushed against her fingers, her hand resting beside his. And with the lightest of touches, her small fingers brushed softly over his until her small hand covered his, lifting his fingers a little so her fingers could curl around his. His hand lifted in response, opening his palm to meet hers, brushing his thumb over hers and threading his fingers through hers.

And with their hands entwined and the thrum of anticipation filling the air between them, they drove silently through the night, out to his cabin.


	17. Day 17 - Fire Time (Tree Time Part VIII)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday.  
> This is the conclusion of this little piece.  
> I swear, I may have outfluffed myself with this one that it needs its own word. Smutty Fluff = SMUFF.  
> (Seriously. Hormones and Christmas Music and a nice drink make for a pretty dangerous cocktail.)

Lise had not been out to his cabin much. He’d only finished it a mere few months ago, barely habitable just before winter. She had been out a few times when it was still in construction, during the summer and at the end of fall when he had invited his work colleagues over and it had not been furnished yet. And stepping into his world, with their relationship on the cusp of something _changing_ , filled her with an unknown hope. 

He trailed behind her, walking from the car, as if he needed time for his thoughts to catch up with his feet. And she looked back at him, reassuring herself that he was following her. And she waited at the door, turning his way as he fumbled with the keys and her eyes met his, curious and nervous. And he cocked his head, meeting her questioning gaze, his eyes warm and tender and most of all _sure_ and she smiled with nervous and shy anticipation. And he had to stop into her space to unlock the door, opening the door for her and letting her step through ahead of him.

“Sorry. It’s still a bit sparse.” He apologized.

“I haven’t been here since your topping out.”

“Haven’t had time to move everything. It might be a bit cold … the fire will have gone out a while ago.”

And she looked at him, trying to guess at the meaning behind his words as he hovered in the doorway.

“Let me put a log on. So you’re not cold.”

And he toed his shoes off, stepping through into the open living room and kitchen, fumbling with a few logs and flames were quickly licking at the inside of the fireplace again. And she surveyed the living room, sparsely furnished with only an old armchair and as if he could read her thoughts, he added “I was going to buy a new couch. Didn’t seem worth it to move the old one. Haven’t gotten around to it.” He replied sheepishly.

She’d been oddly quiet and it made him a little nervous. “Can I get you something?”

Her shining eyes met his, something dancing in her eyes that he had never seen so openly displayed on her features before. _Desire_. Desire and _vulnerability_. And he hesitated, not wanting to put any pressure on her to take things any further tonight.

“Non.” And her tone came out a little more impatiently than she had intended. “Just you.”

And he _finally_ took the hint and stepped closer, reaching out for her hand, drawing her fingers into his.

“Tell me you want this.” He rasped, barely above a whisper, his other hand now framing her face, lightly.

“I _do_.” She whispered, getting lost in his intense gaze.

And finally, finally he bent down to meet her lips, a chaste peck of his lips against hers. When she responded, just as carefully, he grew a little bolder, placing his hands gingerly on her waist. And she moved towards him and he pulled her closer softly until he felt her body make contact with his. And the gentle swell of her breasts made contact with his chest and he felt her small hips press up into him lightly and he couldn’t help himself, his hands dropping down to her hips and pulling her against himself. And the pressure against his groin made him stir and groan under his breath with _want_.

And she responded in kind, her arms winding around him, deepening their kiss, her tongue exploring as he opened his lips for her, a breathless desperate moan escaping her as she tried to stand on her tiptoes, trying to bring them level and _closer_. He picked her up effortlessly, her legs parting around him easily, clinging against him and he felt her heat pressing against him and arousal surged through him, even more so when he realized her dress had hiked up nearly over her hips and his hands were able to dip underneath, making contact with the thin material of her leggings.

And she separated from him, catching her breath and with a smirk “That fireplace looks cozy.”

And this time, it didn’t take him quite as long to catch her drift and walked them over and set her down on the soft rug.

“Are you sure?” He asked again, seriously.

And she replied in kind. “John? I have _wanted_ this for years.”

And her earnestness took him by surprise. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Me too.”

“Good. Now John?”

“Yeah?”

“Enough talking. _Show_ me.”

And she showed _him_ , sneaking her arms firmly around him and meeting him in a searing kiss as she impatiently fumbled with his belt, his pants and his shirt, trying to get them off at once. His task seemed to be much easier – he removed her dress in one swift movement, pulling her firmly against his growing erection and his hands roaming over her ass, thumbing at her leggings and moving them down her thighs along with her lacy underwear quickly and making swift work of her bra.

And somehow, when she stood naked before him, the world around them stood still, snow flakes falling over the trees and the lake outside the large windows of the cabin, the fire in the fireplace crackling slowly, and their urgency fell away, overpowered by the need to fully take each other in, unhurriedly and thoroughly. To _meld_ in mind, soul and body.

They settled on the rug in front of the fire, with a blanket and a few pillows taken from the lonely armchair and slowly explored, not getting enough of kissing and tasting each other as their hands roamed gently over the scars of their shared story, of how their intimate partnership had begun, with her saving his life, because she’d seen inside his soul like no one else had. He was awe-struck at every freckle, at the strength he’d known she possessed all along, but only now realized how it manifested itself in the slender taut muscles of her body.

But mostly - mostly he was awed that she existed, that he’d found someone that mirrored him, that she loved him and that she sensed his every thought and every emotion. How, like in their partnership, it was self-evident in the way that she responded to him with every touch. The way she sensed when he was overwhelmed with the fullness of emotion surging through him and she grounded him with nothing but a touch of her hand to his scruffy face, locking eyes with him, sure and calm and a soft smile that told him she felt the same and that it was _real_.

And much like she reassured him emotionally, she reassured him _physically_. He felt overwhelmed by the passion he felt for her, overstimulated by the sheer presence of her and she knew _that_ too. That it had been a long time and she lightly took charge, guiding his hands, his fingers, his lips to where she needed to feel them and letting him focus on _her_ instead of on holding back, trying desperately to _last_. She pushed him back gently, his back and body solidly on the ground as she slid on top of him, planting his large palms over her hips.

And with one hand making contact over his rattling heart, she raised herself, slowly sinking down on him, adjusting as she took him in deeply, fighting the urge to throw her head back and let her eyes roll back, instead keeping steady eye contact with him. And slowly, every so slowly, she moved, rolling her hips into him as he carefully met her. And she slowed him down, circling her hips, lifting herself off of him in impossibly slow, deliberate movements.

And when she was good and ready, she only had to deepen her movements a little bit, sinking down over his chest as their sweat slickened bodies met, entangling her fingers with his and he gripped her hips tightly, thrusting into her as she was beginning to shatter, her muscles contracting and coiling tightly, taking him with her.

And dazed, heart full of wonder, they stilled until they caught their breaths, eyes shining at each other. She eventually slid on the ground next to him, staying entwined, connected, limbs tangled as his arms loosely wrapped around her, cradling her to him. And as the fire crackled and dimmed, they fell asleep, wrapped up in each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooookay, word of warning? I may have out-procrastinated myself and have some serious deadlines next week and a very busy weekend, so I'm not sure what the updating schedule looks like for the rest as I may well end up scrambling shit together at the last minute. In fact, I'm pretty sure I will - seeing as how that's I do my best and most efficient work on things I don't actually want to do. Clearly not an issue for things I enjoy :-)


	18. Day 18 - Secret Santa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, there's a fine line between tooth-rotting fluff and kitsch. This may be leaping over that line. But I don't know what you thought you'd be getting here - this is fic Advent Calendar!

It had been Dyson’s idea. She thought it would be good for “team morale”. So they’d drawn names out of a cardboard box and were to find a suitable gift by the time the Christmas party rolled around. They were on case of a string of midnight robberies and Lise and John spent countless nights on stakeouts with John trying to suss out who Lise had while bemoaning the fact that he had to figure out something for McLeod, of all people.

They had been seeing each other since that night in Toronto and he’d made her stay with a heartfelt confession, telling her he needed her – in more ways than one. They had been sneaking around, not telling anyone but Kelly. But as his cabin became more and more habitable, somehow more and more of her things had started showing up and never left. And he liked it.

And their relationship fell into an easy, comfortable rhythm and they had been talking about telling the others. Jerry had _guessed_ at some point And John had been thinking a lot – about retiring, about asking her to move in, about asking her to be his _wife_. He’d bought a ring and had secretly hoped maybe he’d pick her when Dyson had come up with that harebrained Secret Santa idea. And was sorely disappointed. So he bought McLeod some fine craft beer and would not stop grumbling about it on their long nighttime stakeouts.

She’d been tightlipped for the first two nights, even though he asked who she’d gotten. The third night, she told him – she’d gotten _Dyson_ and had been trying to figure out if scented candles was too cliché. So when the Algonquin Bay Police Department’s Christmas party rolled around, he didn’t think anything of it. She almost didn’t make it to the party, having been out sick with the stomach flu for nearly a week and he’d happily showered her with attention, afraid he’d have to go on his own.

They’d driven in together and she’d volunteered to be the designated driver, still feeling a bit green around the gills. But to him, she never looked more beautiful, the way her rosy cheeks shone, her eyes sparkled and mostly how her shining red dress hugged her figure. She’d insisted he wear a suit, had set a blue one with a white shirt out for him, but getting a haircut and trimming his beard and cleaning up _nice_ had been all him.

And they sat in the parking lot together and when she moved to get out of the car, he grasped her hand carefully and she sat back into the seat. And he hesitated briefly, then told her slowly and carefully, holding her hand in his “I would like to go in there _together_. If that’s okay with you.”

And a slow, sweet smile spread over her face, her eyes shining with emotion and she reached across the console, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. She was kissing him in the Algonquin Bay Police Department Parking Lot. That had to mean … “Yes.” And after a brief pause. “We should probably talk to Dyson.”

And he nodded, earnestly. And he got out of the car, hurrying to her side and offered her his arm and that’s how they walked in and John’s skin prickled, with everyone staring at the beautiful woman on his arm. And … a few raised eyebrows. There was a photo booth and they stopped to pose and somehow, they ended up with a perfect shot of him standing behind her, an arm loosely wrapped around her, his eyes smiling broadly in the camera and she was grinning broadly, the lipstick red on her lips.

And at that exact moment, Dyson, dressed up nicely herself, with Sylvie by her side, walked in, seeing them happy and chummy in the photo booth. And she gave them a stern once over and muttered to John, under her breath as they passed each other “Took you long enough. We’ll talk about this on Monday.” And his grin spread wider yet.

And they mingled, Lise getting him some eggnog and a glass of orange juice for herself. McLeod’s eyes nearly fell out of his face when he saw them, holding hands and he was quick to share his observation with Jerry who only rolled his eyes “Oh that’s been going on for a while, Ian.”

And when the time came to open their Secret Santa presents, they gathered in their small group. McLeod uncovered his craft beer first, needing three guesses until he figured out it had been John. Kular was next, guessing correctly that his hockey tickets came from Dyson. When Dyson opened up her scented candles, he barely paid attention. Finally, it was his turn to open his present and he drew a soft Cashmere scarf from the box. And something clattered to the bottom of the box and his eyes fell to the small stick, sitting at the bottom of the box.

And John choked her name, his eyes filling with tears. “Lise?”

And everyone thought he’d guessed correctly … and he pulled her into a bear hug, whispering an unbelieving “Really?” into her ear. And she nodded, smiling nervously.

And he had guessed correctly – not that it took a detective to figure that one out. At the bottom of the box was a pregnancy test. A _positive_ pregnancy test.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this may actually be sort of an alternative ending to True North.


	19. Day 19 - Secret Santa (II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My head is full of gingerbread cookies and SMUFF. Sorry. Not sorry.

John couldn’t wait to get out of the party after the news he’d had earlier, but they continued mingling for a while, John hovering protectively. He couldn’t stop grinning from ear to ear – once, very early on in their relationship, he’d hinted that if that was something she wanted, he wasn’t opposed, but she had not expected the sheer amount of happiness he exuded. And he couldn’t stop touching her, never leaving her side, an arm around her and when Lise announced she was tired, he was more than happy to take the hint and escorting her to the car. 

Inside, away from prying ears, John whispered, touching a warm hand to her belly, all wrapped up in her thick winter coat. “Are you really pregnant?” 

And Lise nodded, smiling bashfully. “I took it today.” She opened the buttons of her coat, placing his hand on her flat belly and nodded seriously at him. 

“When …?” 

“You remember that shady Mexican place we went to in Toronto?”

“Yeah, the one Kelly took us to ….”

“And then I had the stomach flu for a week?” And she shrugged, smiling awkwardly “I guess that’s when... are you … okay with this?“ She asked carefully.

He smiled broadly. “More than okay.” he leaned over, kissing her. “It’s amazing.”

And when they got home, he couldn’t help but help her take off her dress, sliding the zipper down her back as his hands slid off the top and he stood behind her, admiring her in the mirror as his arms embraced her, his hands over her now bare stomach. And she watched him in the mirror, her gaze hungry … the pregnancy hormones were sure doing things to her desire for the father of her baby. And she didn’t hesitate “I want you, John.”

His eyes turned dark and he was only too happy to oblige. “I want you to move in with me.” He rasped into her passionate kiss and swallowed the “Oui.” right off her lips, before picking her up and carrying her to the bedroom, setting her down softly on the bed where she proceeded to tug in his tie, slinging it at the foot of the bed. 

He removed his blue suit jacket and started unbuttoning his shirt, while she unbuttoned his pants and slid them down his legs, stroking his dick through his boxers. And he kissed her, hard and she yielded under him, laying herself back on the bed in front of him. 

Still stunned, he repeated with a big dumb smile on his face, kissing her belly. “We’re having a baby.” 

Her eyes shone with happiness, pulling him up her body. “We are.” And distracting him with a kiss, she whispered seductively in his ear, arching her hips into his eager dick “We should probably make the most of it while it’s still just us.”

John pressed himself hard against her, rubbing his throbbing dick against the lace of her panties before he grazed kisses along her body, palming and sucking at her tender nipples until she moaned wantonly into his mouth. And he worked his way lower, burying his head against her stomach for a brief moment, his beard scratching the supple skin while his hands worked to get her black lacy underwear off and starting to suck eagerly at her sensitive bud. The friction of John’s beard and his wet, hot tongue against her making her quiver and moan within minutes – maybe there was something to those pregnancy hormones that made her so damn sensitive to this man’s touch. 

Suddenly he stopped, just short of making her come, covering her body with his large, heavy one in one fluid motion, pushing her legs apart with the broad pressure of his hips. And needing to feel him, she desperately yanked his boxers over his ass, taking his hard, leaking dick and poising him at her entrance and he sank inside her with a deep, guttural growl. 

And John couldn’t hold back and he fucked her with the sheer depth of feeling he was capable of, claiming her and making her his, as if she wasn’t already pregnant with his child and somehow, his sudden possessive fervor made her come all the harder and he wasn’t long following behind her, burying himself deeply inside of her as he came, collapsing on top of her, his body slick with sweat. 

And careful not to put his weight on her, he shifted, pulling her on top of him as they came down from their high, catching their breaths and he curled carefully around her, kissing her sweaty forehead. “I love you. Both of you.”


	20. Day 20 - Secret Santa (III)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, if you can't guess what's next ... this needed to be done.

Lise woke late, having felt very fatigued as of late … and John had kept her up for a while. Even after they’d made love, he lay next to her, silent and holding her close, but somehow the news had kept him up. He certainly seemed happy and she hoped it had been happy insomnia. But with him awake, she hadn’t properly fallen asleep either. But she’d enjoyed being wrapped up in him.

She _was_ happy. She’d had a bit more time to process than him, if not by much – but she had suspected a few days more. And at some level, she had known all along and she’d been home, feeling sick and had time to think through some things. He’d asked her to move in – so that was one down. The cabin was perfect – for them and the little one. They had enough rooms and plenty of outdoor space for playing and growing up.

They would need to tell people – Dyson foremost. She probably shouldn’t be out in the field anymore at some point. And what about work? John had been talking about retiring and now … And Kelly, they would need to tell her and she was a little worried how she’d take it, being old enough to have kids of her own.

Where was John, anyway? He must have woken up much earlier when she was still fast asleep. She hadn’t heard a sound – not his footsteps or rumbling in the kitchen or the smell of coffee. The shower wasn’t running. No gurgling water in the pipes. Nothing. Maybe he’d gone to the store? Wouldn’t she have heard the car start? She was getting curiouser and curiouser and got up, checking the driveway. The car was still there.

She put on a pair of socks, sweatpants and one of John’s oversized sweaters and started padding to the kitchen. There were the remnants of coffee in a mug and some crumbs from a piece of toast. But no John in sight. But there was something red by the door and she padded over to the sliding glass door that opened up onto their patio, but she didn’t see him even through the enormous glass windows with a vista of the lake. But she saw footsteps and when she bent down, she realized the little speck of red was a dried rose petal.

Lise smiled at the memory. He’d gotten her gorgeous, enormous roses for her birthday. He’d gone _all_ out and taken her out for dinner. It had been their first proper date, dinner at a fancy restaurant and making love all night. She’d been a little nervous, going out in Algonquin Bay where people might see and _talk_. And all he’d said was “Let them.” She’d hung up the roses to dry and had kept them. _Here_. 

She saw his large rubber boots stand waiting outside the door. Her curiosity piqued, she started investigating and opened up the sliding glass door, now seeing his footsteps in the snow … and here and there, more little specks of red. She grabbed her parka and her woolen hat and slipped into the waiting boots. And in the much too large boots, followed him down the trail he’d left for her.

And she found him in the little thicket by the lake where he’d put up a small bench during the summer. He’d heard her coming and held out his arm for her, but not turning around. He sat there, bunched up warmly with a thermos sitting on the bench on his other side and she readily joined him, wondering what had brought him out here this morning and hoped it hadn’t been nerves.

She snuggled into his embrace, waiting for him to explain.

“I was out here watching the sunrise.” He started. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot. And now … seems like the perfect time.” He was searching for the right words and they felt awkward coming out of his mouth, he felt he was fumbling, terribly

“The perfect time?” Lise asked, quietly.

And John turned towards her on the bench, taking her hands in his large, gloved ones. “Will you be my wife, Lise?” And he was practically shaking when he opened the little black velvet box that he’d been cradling in his hands for the better part of a few hours.

Lise was absolutely stunned and speechless. She’d barely told him she was pregnant and had been worried if that’s something he even wanted at his age and here he was _proposing_. He had a goddamn ring. A beautiful, simple, stunning _ring_. He’d been _thinking_ about this and he’d gone out to buy her a ring.

And he was getting a little nervous at her silence, filling the silence. “I never thought I’d have anything like this again. But you’ve made me happier than I’ve ever been.”

And her eyes were filling with tears. Damn pregnancy _hormones_. “I was kind of hoping to be _your_ Secret Santa.” John admitted. “Will you start a new life with me, Lise?”

“Yes, John. A million times yes.” She smiled, tears falling and removing his hand from his glove, he cradled her face, wiping them away and kissed her. “You make me want all I thought I never wanted because _it wasn’t with you_.” She chocked up.

With his free hand, he took her hand and slipped the ring on her finger. “So that’s settled.” And she huddled deeper into his embrace, putting her head on his shoulder. And he reached out for the thermos and poured her a bit of herbal tea.

And that’s how the rest of their lives started.


	21. Day 21 - Secret Santa (IV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, I am officially OFF. And this is officially a quickie of a chapter :-p

The second Lise Delorme learned she was pregnant, was the minute she quit smoking. Cold turkey. The problem was that her options to keep those cravings at bay were also limited. She didn’t want to do nicotine patches either, afraid it might not be good for the baby. Alcohol was obviously out of the question, too. She did dip into those delicious chocolate covered hazelnuts heavily and swore they helped against morning sickness as well. But then she didn’t want to gain a ton of weight either, now carefully trying to eat lots of fruit and vegetables.

She couldn’t have said if it was the nicotine withdrawal or the morning sickness or the back pain, but she was cranky and irritable and restless. And John? John was a saint through all of it. Even when she threw a fit first thing in the morning when the coffee machine broke and she blew up about how the universe was determined to not even let her have her GODDAMN COFFEE.

John grabbed the car keys, put her in the car and drove her to the next Starbucks. He even tried yoga with her at some point and asked her to join him on a walk by the lakeside to distract her. And somehow between quitting and being pregnant, she found that very very very appealing. In fact, she found herself very very horny at the mere thought of the father of her baby and the man who’d asked her to marry him, all in his usual quiet, thoughtful way.

And when they got back from that coffee run … well, they hadn’t actually made it back _inside_ , but she’d found the one thing that worked even better as a distraction than coffee, yoga and walks. And that was fucking the brains out of John Cardinal. He’d just barely pulled into the driveway and she’d just finished that wonderful, delicious coffee when she’d growled his name and he sure recognized the predatory look on her face when she reached over the console and began stroking him through his pants.

And he was hot and hard _fast_ as she urged down his zipper, pulling his cock from the confines of his boxers and pants and went down on him. His smell jacked up the frantic need for him as she started stroking herself while sucking him deftly.

“Move your seat back.” She commanded somewhere between when she slipped her fingers inside her own pants and the need for air made her release his straining erection with an obscene pop. And he obliged obediently while pulled at her comfortable leggings, dragging them down her legs and removing them along with the flats she’d been wearing.

And before he could even gather his wits, she was straddling him in the driver’s seat, pulling his pants down as much as she managed in the small space. John was still completely dumbfounded by her sudden onslaught, but his body was more than happy to oblige as she sunk down on his eager cock, finding her incredibly wet and hot for him.

He was barely starting to thrust as well as he could, but Lise grabbed onto the seat behind him and started frantically bouncing up and down on his cock, swearing in French as she rode him, seeking pleasure and release. She fucked him wantonly, pushing his hands underneath her dress and against her breasts, moaning desperately as she satisfied her craving on his cock, rubbing her clit against his erection.

It didn’t take long for her to start to shatter and she came hard when he started rubbing her clit for her, urging her on as he’d gotten with the program and was thrusting up into her with the same abandon. And when he felt her contract around him, pulsating in hot waves, pushing herself against the car’s roof and down on him, he felt his balls tighten and came inside of her, his cum leaking out and leaving a stain on the car seat that would remind him of their tryst for years to come.

Her cheeks flushed, she sank down in his lap, heaving with exertion.

“Sorry, don’t know what came over me.”

And John smiled saucily. “Oh I’m not sorry.”

It didn’t occur to Lise until days later, when the same need to have him right then and there hit at the precinct and she dragged him into the janitor’s closet, that it had made her forget about cigarettes for a long and decent while. This was way better than a nicotine patch.


	22. Day 22 - Secret Santa / Not so secret Easter Bunny (V)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is soooooo cheesy it's actually bad. But it's Christmas Eve ... so whatever :-)

Lise was nervous. Very nervous. She had a very good relationship with Kelly, but telling her that her father was retiring, that they were getting married and they were having a baby all at the same time was _a lot_ to take in. She’d considered breaking it down into little bite sized bits, but very little of it could actually _wait_. At least she knew they’d been seeing each other and that Lise had moved in at the beginning of the year.

John on the other hand was the picture of calm. He insisted it would be fine. Kelly would be happy for him. For _them_. So he had invited her up to join them for the long Easter weekend and she’d gladly accepted. So they’d stocked the fridge to the brim, had gotten the guest room ready and Lise was slaving in the kitchen, making brunch. She’d been up early, making hot cross buns and anything from pancakes to savory dishes.

John grabbed a coffee and kissed his soon-to-be-wife.

“Honey. I know you’re eating for two, but who’s gonna eat all of this?”

And Lise’s eyes started to water and she started crying and John pulled her into a hug. She had been more emotional of late, beginning to _nest_ and it had made him feel protective. And proud.

“What if she hates it.”

“She’ll love it. _All_ of it.”

And she sniffled, her warm arms around her reassuring. She _hated_ how emotional this all made her. She’d blown up at the office the other day when they had a case of a missing child and he’d overheard McLeod in the breakroom saying “What’s gotten into Momma Bear all of a sudden?” They had told Dyson immediately of course, keeping Lise out of the field as much as possible. But the rest of the team was clueless as ever, except maybe Jerry, and they would break the news to their colleagues after Easter. After _Kelly_. 

“Why don’t you grab a shower and change and I’ll finish up here?”

He kissed her sweetly and ushered her off to the bathroom.

And half an hour later, he heard a commotion from the bedroom where Lise was getting dressed.

“Everything OK in here?” He went and checked on her and found her along with a stack of clothes on their bed.

“My pants don’t fit anymore.” She stated matter of factly. “Can’t close the button.”

And John’s eyes lit up. “Really?” And she nodded, a smile tugging at her lips.

“Peanut’s getting big.” John smiled proudly.

“Or maybe it’s all the chocolate I’ve been eating.”

“And you did quit smoking.”

And she swatted at him. “Are you saying I’m getting fat?”

“You’re getting more beautiful every day, honey.”

And Lise sighed dramatically. “I’m going to be wearing a potato sack for the wedding.”

“I’d still marry you.” And John was grinning from ear to ear. “I love you. Stop fretting. It will be fine.”

And soon after Kelly arrived and they welcomed her in and she greeted her father and Lise with warm hugs. So when they sat down there at the large wooden table, with food spread out from one end to the other, John’s arms were spread out on the table and Lise snuck her small hand into his and they were holding hands as Kelly looked at them expectantly.

“So. What were you guys going to tell me?”

“Well, uhm, Kelly …” John started.

“Dad, are you guys getting married? You know, with the baby and all?”

“What?” John looked horrified and it took Lise a moment to catch up and she burst out laughing.

“You knew?”

And Kelly smiled warmly at them. “Only since about February. Lise quitting smoking and drinking in one go was a dead giveaway.” And rolling her eyes she told them “And you’ve got “What to expect when you’re expecting” lying on the table in the living room. Really subtle. ”

And John and Lise looked at each other, smirking. And Kelly got up and hugged her dad and then Lise. “Congratulations. I’m very happy for you.”

“Well, there’s one more thing … “

“Let me guess. You’re _finally_ retiring.”

And John couldn’t help but smile at his _family_.


	23. Day 23 - Secret Santa / A Summer Wedding (VI)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I seem to have some kind of virus that turns your brain into complete mush. This is so SOPPY it is dripping.  
> (I had absolutely no intention of writing this and yet here it is)

John’s retirement party had come and gone without much fanfare. Everyone had been too excited about the summer wedding that followed a few weeks later. It had been a simple affair, out by their cabin, down by the lake. Kelly had been a tremendous a help in the preparations and they couldn’t have done it without her. With great care, she had prepared the decorations. Her parents had come down a week early and her father and John had been busy setting up the seats, while the women busied themselves in the kitchen.

Lise helped as much as she could, but with her belly have reached a fairly considerable size, the backaches had started bothering her. She’d first given up on wearing heels and after John’s backrubs didn’t do quite the wonders she was used to and at his insistent prodding, she finally agreed to rest and be off her feet at least every once in a while.

And it wasn’t that they’d tried to keep it traditional, but Kelly had accompanied her for her wedding dress shopping and she would have been more than happy with any nice dress, but the first one she’d tried on was _perfect_. It was very much _Lise_. A simple, floor length white dress with a lace pattern weaving around it, a simple scoop neckline and lace mid-length sleeves. She felt comfortable and it didn’t make her feel huge. And somehow, John had ended up not seeing the dress.

So when they gathered by the lake on a warm and breezy day with their families and friends in attendance, it was far more traditional than they would have planned for – not with their very nontraditional history, how they had met through her investigating him for corruption, how they had fallen in love somewhere between murder and mayhem and how a little accident had thrown them the happiest curveball neither of them ever planned or considered having.

But here they were, John waiting by the flowerbed that Lise had only planted in the spring, Roses like the ones John had bought her for her birthday and used to show her the path to his heart. They were blooming, small still, but much like their love, they would grow strong over the years to come. And John sure looked handsome in his tuxedo, but it was his expression, the way his eyes danced with a happiness she’d rarely seen on his face throughout all of their history and a wide, full smile that moved her beyond words.

And her father walked her down the aisle, which was really just a patch of grass down their garden and seeing the vision of Lise in her white dress carrying their baby under her heart moved him to tears. And she did look beautiful, the hairdresser having braided her hair into an elegant version of her usual bun, but he really only had eyes for her and the way her breath hovered and her eyes shone at him as if she couldn’t quite believe her luck.

And they said their vows and everyone was awed at the words about finding the impossible in a world that could be so terrible and cruel, about how their soul breathed easily in the other’s presence and finding comfort in knowing each other and starting a new life _together_. But what the others could not see was the wordless exchange that passed between them as they spoke, only them knowing the full meaning behind their words, the way they had always understood each other without the need for words, from heart to heart, from one soul to another.

Little Louis toddled down the aisle, bringing them their rings and Lise actually had to wipe a tear from her eyes when they exchanged their rings and her _husband_ kissed her. And they celebrated well into the night, John _entirely too_ skillfully removing the garter from her slender, pale leg and poor Kular being mocked the rest of the night that he’d be next.

When their guests had left or gone to bed, they sat on their bench by the lake, Lise’s head resting on his shoulder as he tucked her carefully into his side with one arm around her shoulders and the other one feeling the soft kicks of the little Cardinal in her belly. And they walked back to their cabin, hand in hand and in silence.

She was a few steps ahead of him as he trailed behind, their arms beginning to stretch between them as he pulled her back a little.

“Hold on.” He said gruffly. And she looked back into his eyes with her usual questioning look, her brown eyes large and tired. “I think I want to carry _my wife_ over the threshold.” And John pulled his wife gently into his arms, kissing her tenderly before struggling to pick her up which wasn’t that easy with the state he’d gotten her into. But he did succeed eventually, stepping into their new home and their new life as _husband_ and _wife_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK. Only one more advent calendar window / ficlet - and seeing how my fam does Christmas tomorrow, not sure it will actually be tomorrow. And then I'll get to work on a little side project before possibly finishing up True North, but I'm in soppy mushy mood, so maybe there will be some NYE fic instead :-)


	24. Chapter 24 - Secret Santa (VII)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well my darlings, it wouldn't be Day 24 of an advent calendar if it didn't get a little hot in here. I really enjoyed this and I hope it made your days leading up to Christmas a little brighter. So here is the conclusion - smutty, soppy and very very very fluffy.  
> (And aren't you impressed how there was ZERO angst? ZERO?! ME! Yeah. I'm probably going back to the angst. Soon.)

John seemed to take easily to retirement. While Lise still went into the office, desk-bound and reviewing video footage and cold cases and completely frustrated and irritable with doing only paperwork, he’d taken to working at home. When she came home in the evenings, the kitchen was steamed up and something on the stove smelled delicious and he insisted his wife had to eat well, seeing as how she was eating for two.

And somehow, him smelling of wood dust, looking gruff and wearing red checkered lumberjack flannel shirts more often than not meant that the food was actually the second course. And as her swollen belly started getting in the way, they had to get a little more creative. Lise was starting to feel a little insecure, starting to feel more like a beached whale than a sexy pregnant wife. But somehow John, attuned to his wife’s every slightest change in mood, always made that disappear instantly, worshipping her from her heavy, tender breasts, to her swollen, uncomfortable belly, soothing with his warm touch and the tender words directed at the life within.

Sometimes she wondered how a man who usually spoke so little, seemed to be perfectly at ease talking to nothing but a big bump of skin for hours, ghosting scratching kisses across. And the little human being sure responded and while _peanut_ was restless at work, kicking up a storm while she tried to concentrate on paperwork, it seemed to calm right down the minute its father’s warm hand said hello when she got home.

John sure enjoyed how sensitive she’d become to his touch – it wasn’t like he’d left her unresponsive before, but somehow with the pregnancy flooding her system with hormones and increased blood flow circulating, the merest touch lit her on fire and he loved taking his time to see how very little it took to make her come, in the shower, buried inside of her from behind, nipping lightly at the skin of her neck whispering that he loved her pregnant body.

But what he’d really seemed to have developed an appetite for was burying his head between her legs and making her come with just his breath and the ghost of his scruffy beard against her clit or lying behind her, hiking her leg over his and reaching between her thigh and the rise of her belly and making her writhe underneath his touch, the rougher pads of his fingers against her clit, his long large fingers buried inside of her.

When she told him later, when he’d caught her scrutinizing herself in the full length mirror in the bedroom, that she worried about _after,_ he told her earnestly that he’d been practicing getting her off so they wouldn’t have to have sex until she was ready. And with tears threatening to fall, she’d asked “ _But what about you?”_ And he gently wiped at her tears. _“Oh baby, I come just thinking about you.”_ And she replied _“Maybe I should practice too…”_

And she sat on the bed, pulling him towards her by his belt, unthreading it while she palmed his growing erection through the seam of his pants and zipping him open and pushing his pants down his legs, pulling him as close as possible. Her hands reaching around him, palming the cheeks of his ass over his boxer briefs before slipping her hands inside them, rolling them down as she squeezed his ass, pushing his hardened length into her warm, waiting mouth with the movement.

He groaned heavily, jerking in to her mouth when she swirled her tongue around the tip and sucked down on him hard as she drew him deeper into her mouth. And before she softened the pressure, gliding back, he grabbed her by her hair, steading himself. _“Fuck, Lise.”_ And she released him with a soft pop, gasping a little. _“Oui, mon amour?”_ And she looked up at him with naked desire, her hand having taken the place of her mouth, stroking him. _“You don’t need practice, baby.”_

And when she swallowed him again, her laugh reverberating around his cock, a strained _“Ahhhh fuuuuuck, Liiise.”_ escaped him and it wasn’t long before he felt his balls tightening and she quite possibly sensed it before him as she grabbed his ass again, sucking him in deep as he helpless came, losing control.

And she crawled into bed and he followed soon after, still naked, cuddling her and stroking her belly and resuming his evening conversation with _peanut_. But her worries had not completely disappeared and he felt the tension in her body and when he’d had his usual evening chat with the bump, he’d returned to his wife, embracing her. “Still worried?” he murmured against her neck. “What if I’m not in the mood? What if you find me repulsive? What if I’m completely hysterical from the lack of sleep?”

And he his soft kisses nuzzled her neck before his soft lips and scratchy beard grazed her shoulder and her arm. “Baby, you’re twenty years younger than me and I’m going to be fried twenty times more than you and I still haven’t figured why I’m so damn lucky, but I’m sure it wasn’t my looks. All I know is that I fell in love with your mind first, and then your soul, and then your heart and your body last. And you’re carrying _my_ child. I’ve made through _way_ worse than that because you were there _with me_. So forgive me, but I think this will be a walk in the park for us.”

And with just the barest hint of a sniffle, she turned towards him, pressing her soft wet lips to his. “I love you, John.”

“I love you too.”

And after a little pause she asked. “What are you working on there in the workshop?”

“You’ll have to wait for that until the baby is born.”

“You know that whole lumberjack thing really works for me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I was thinking about painting the baby’s bedroom on the weekend. But I could chop some firewood while you’re sitting on the porch.”

“Keep talking, babe.”

And she sat up awkwardly, fumbling to get her leggings off and climbing on top of him with surprising grace, guiding one of his hands to her clit and his other to her breast underneath her shirt.

“Take your shirt off.” John rasped, having made a surprisingly fast recovery as his cock started swelling again and his blood started flowing in earnest when she smiled saucily at him, slowly removed her shirt, revealing her naked belly and above it her heavy breasts. And she rutted against his probing fingers, lifting herself enough so that he could stroke between her folds, finding her wet heat pooling against his fingers as she sunk herself onto his long, curled fingers as she contorted to grasp his length, stroking him back to his previous hardness.

And when she’d been short of coming from his skilled ministrations, she sunk down on his hard length, slowly enveloping him with her wet hot center as they both moaned at their union, her hands lacing with hers. As much as they enjoyed pleasuring each other, their bodies melding together like they had that first night in Toronto had not lost any of its initial intensity and passion.

She only wished she could bend down, but her swollen belly would not allow her to kiss him while they were joined like this, but he smiled crookedly as his hand came up to frame her face, his fingers grazing the skin of her lips. He knew, he always knew. And she leaned into his hand as they moved together, slowly building a steady rhythm and when he felt her movements get sloppy and erratic, he grabbed her by the hips and started thrusting in to her, holding her steady against him as he felt his muscles coil from deep within and felt her muscles contract around him as he spilled himself inside of her again.

Sated and contented, she curled up into him, finally able to kiss him and her tongue lingered, teasing his lips gently open and roaming as they kissed like teenagers coming down from their high, caressing each other’s bodies with smooth, soft touches. When goosebumps spread between the freckles of her arms, he drew up the blanket over them. And eventually, she fell asleep and he watched her, his warm hand feeling the fluttering across her belly, before succumbing to sleep himself.

On Friday, they picked out the paint for the baby’s bedroom. And windows wide open, they painted the small room in a calming green. _“Like the forest.”_ John had murmured. And Lise had wanted to help, but had to give up after realizing she wasn’t able to reach quite like she’d expected, so she’d settled herself in the comfy armchair that had once been sitting in his living room, before they’d picked out a large family couch together.

And she loved watching him paint, wearing nothing but a wifebeater and a pair of old sweatpants. Ever since he’d retired, he’d somehow slimmed down just a little, with his torso and his arms having gotten stronger and more defined with whatever he was up to out there in the shed. And as his arms moved up and down, painting the walls in long sweeping strokes, his arms flexing as he did so, she couldn’t stop herself from touching herself.

And when he noticed, he stopped, short of just having finished the wall, asking gruffly “You need help with that?”

“Mmmmmm, non … you keep going.”

But John was too distracted, sinking down in front of her, spreading her legs as she slid down in the armchair, opening herself to his probing tongue. And that’s how the armchair in the baby’s room ended up with green blobs as he gripped her hips tightly as he made her come. And that’s why the paint in the corner by the door ended up being just a little uneven.

And when John finally got around chopping the fire wood for the winter, Lise definitely felt like a beached whale, a week overdue and more than ready for that baby to come. She’d been having slight twinges in her back all day and was desperately hoping that today would be the day. And she’d long ago read that having sex was supposed to help induce labor and when John removed that red checkered flannel shirt to reveal a tight black shirt underneath, showcasing the strong muscles of his shoulders and his arms, that sure did the trick. _Her water_ finally _broke._

And John was in no rush. He knew the drill, this could take hours. And they sat outside on their wooden bench for a while as he held her hand through her first contractions as they watched the sun set over the lake. And when the contractions started coming closer together, more regular and stronger, he calmly got her settled in the car, grabbed their go bag and drove them to the hospital. And it was still a few hours later, until Lise, sweaty and tired and red to her face from exertion, held their newborn son to her chest, both their eyes wet with tears.

And when they took Olivier John Cardinal _home_ , there it was. Inside Ollie’s room sat a perfect, sturdy, hand-crafted rocking cradle. It was simple, with arched head and foot boards, its corners and edges smoothed down in countless hours of work. Complete with mattress, trimmings and a mobile with wooden animals and trees and a green bow on top the headboard. 

Lise’s eyes welled up with tears at what John had been working on these past months. She hadn’t given a cradle any thought, having bought a bedside sleeper along with their other necessities. And while little Ollie still slept with his parents, the cradle was moved out of Ollie’s room into the living room, where John enjoyed reading his books on the sofa while his son was sleeping, more often than not reading to him as he often had when he’d just been a _peanut_. And when Lise eventually went back to work, that’s how she found them most days. Father and son in the living room, Ollie in the cradle sleeping or happily babbling in his father’s lap.


End file.
